The Journal of Keledrial Nightstar
by Azurielle
Summary: Elven wizard and elven berserker, Keledrial's life has gone through one change after the next. How will he handle it all?
1. Default Chapter

**Note:** This story is mine, begun in the year 2002, and is currently unfinished  as of September 2002.  Not all of the characters are mine, for example, Elaith Craulnober and Brian.  Those characters belong to Wizards of the Coast, and the writers of the forgotten Realms novels in which they appear.  The original characters, like Keledrial, Ranon, Hank, Calvin, Tobias, Lita etc. are mine, however, and are not to be used without my permission.  Some of the plots may seem familiar, as they were based on adventures published in the Dragon magazines, and dungeons and Dragons material put out by Wizards of the Coast.  The rest of the plots are mine.  This story was written for purely entertainment purposes and not to make any money.  Thank you, and I hoped you enjoy it. And please note that the story does deal with some unpleasant subject matter, like rape, insanity, and death…and unlike my previous story, Raine the Banshee, it may not have a happy ending. Thanks, Azurielle.

The Journal of 

**Keledrial Nightstar**

So I begin.  It has taken me long to gather enough materials to start this…years since the day the idea first came to me…I no longer know exactly how long…though I could probably find out if I wished to.  On Ruathym, you see, there is no parchment on which to write on, no quills or ink with which to write with.  What I now have has been scavenged…blank pages from the backs of stolen books, torn bits of scroll, and even white cloth.  The ink I have made myself, using grasses and berries, and the rare bits of ink that I find left in the ornate inkwells that my foster father, Brander Windreiver, brings home as plunder from raids.  I write this now with the bone from a seagull's wing that I found on the beach.

       I do not know why I write this now…yet I have many reasons for doing so.  If my handwriting seems rough, or if there are mistakes, it is because I write this in secret, by the dying light of the evening fire, and the light of the moon.  If my script is even and no longer as precise as it once was, it is because my hands, now used to the feel of a sword and the axe, falter at this once familiar task.  The calluses on my fingers are from physical work and not from the delicate scratchings of ink on parchment.

       I write to remember, for I fear the longer I stay here, among the Ruathen folk, the further my memories will erode.  Even now, once familiar faces are unclear, and only in deepest reverie can I recall them again.  

       I write for myself, but also for others, in the vain hope that if I do not survive, that these words might someday be found and conveyed back to my people, that my true fate be known.  I know now that I shall be here until I find the strength and knowledge to find my own way home.  Home is far from here, in a place that no Ruathen that I know will claim to have heard of.  I shall speak more of that later.

       I write this in secret for my foster parents would and do not understand.  They, themselves, cannot read nor write their own language.  Such learning is for the shamans and the priests of the isle alone.  They would not like to know that I can both write and read the words of my own language…a language which I am now forbidden to speak aloud.  Though I sometimes whisper to myself the bittersweet words of the language of the people, I fear that the day may come that the harsh, coarse language of the Ruathen may become far too familiar for my liking.  I can only hope that my foster father does not find where I shall hide these papers.  In Ruathym, books are only useful for kindling fires, and the price of the valuables they are bound with will bring.

       I will start this tale at the beginning, for I have surely confused you by now.  All tales must begin somewhere, yes?

       I was born on the isle of Evermeet, the sacred retreat and home of the people.  It is a verdant jewel of an island.  The great trees grow down to the very water.  The land is criss-crossed by streams, and bisected by the great river Ardulith.  The shores of the sea are covered with the purest white sand.  The water is always calm, and so deep a blue that no stone or dye could compare.

       My home city is Leuthilspar.  I could spend all of these pages in a description of it, and yet never truly capture what it truly like.  Leuthilspar is the greatest of all the surviving cities of the people, situated at the mouth of the Ardulith.  The buildings are of stone and wood, all living and not harshly torn from the earth and violently shaped, like the buildings on Ruathym.  Crystal towers stand beside huge trees-homes, grown with great magic, growing still.  The streets are of crystal, smooth and beautiful and shining, yet not treacherous. In Leuthilspar one finds all that is best in the civilization of the people.  And above all, is the heart of the city, Moonstone palace.  The vast building of gleaming white and gold and silver rises over the city, and is home to our beloved rulers, King Zaor and Queen Amlaruil.  I was often at the palace in my youth, and I have met and spoken with the King and Queen.  This may seem like a great thing to some, but for me, it was common.  After all, I am the heir to my house, and it makes sense that they would want to make certain that they knew me well.  I have always thought that King Zaor was the greatest of all people…a warrior of great strength and skill…a fair and wise ruler…everything that was good.  I wanted to be like him…idolized him.  I still do, though I wonder if I shall ever see my king again.  

The Queen is the fairest woman in the world, I am certain of it.  Her hair reminded me of the rarest fire opal.  Short of my own mother, there is no woman higher in my regard, nor any whom I could love more than my Queen.  Yet I digress…there has probably been written one thousand and more descriptions and sonnets of the royal family of Evermeet…my meager words cannot compare, only that describing them helps me to remember…and makes my heart ache…for I am not on Evermeet.

       I was born in my family's home, a large building crafted of stone and a living trees, melded together in perfect harmony.  I am…or was, Keledrial Nightstar, 1st born son and only child of my mother, Saelihn Nightstar and my father, Valorian Hawksong.  Perhaps you think it is strange that I carry my mother's family name, and not my father's…yet it was his choice.  My mother, along with her twin sister, Halaema, are the only living children of my grandfather Cefwyn Nightstar. As such, they are the heirs, and when grandfather returned to the mainland he left my mother and aunt in charge of the leadership of our house.  I am the firstborn grandchild, and as such I am the heir to that leadership, the family home on Evermeet, and the Nightstar moon blade…or at least I would have been when I came of age.  Had I taken my father's surname, I would have been heir to nothing, save his name.  My parents always wanted the best for me, so I am Nightstar and not Hawksong.

       The night I was born was the twentieth of Nightal, Midwinter's eve to be exact.  Some of my inherent skill with magic has been attributed to the fate of my birth day, seeing as my parents are neither renown for any great skill in magic.

       I was born into two noble houses.  House Nightstar is one of the few who escaped the fall of Myth Drannor, though we have begun to recover from the decimation we suffered with the fall.  House Hawksong is well renowned for producing great musicians, and riders for the royal air-army of pegasi and eagles.  My grandmother, Tiatha Hawksong is a distinguished leader and guardian of the Gem of Clarata. Now as such a noble, I knew from a young age that I was important, and that much would be expected of me.

       Still, I was a very indulged and doted upon child.  I never doubted that I had the love and attention of my parents.

       I was a very bright child, from the very first, and have always learned things quickly.  I have also been told that I was a happy, "sunny" baby, with such a smile that I brightened a room with my mere presence.  That smiled faded when I grew older, however…and I think no one would say the same of me now.

       I was considered fair at the first, as well.  My hair is a melding of my father's sapphire locks and my mother's silver tresses…a pale silvery-blue that is rare, even among the moon-elves.  My skin is much like my parents' as well, so pale as to be almost white, with blue highlights along my ears and cheeks.  Among the Ruathen, they say my coloring makes me look as though I were drowned.  With so much blue, one might've thought that my eyes would be of a similar shade…but they are not.  Not blue, but rather a startling, intense shade of dark green that, if you look closely, have tiny flecks of shiny gold in the irises.  They are my grandmother Tiatha's eyes, so I am told, for both my parents have blue eyes.  

       However, while my coloring is dramatic and my intelligence extraordinary, my physical strength was lacking from the very first breath I drew.  I was always smaller and weaker and frailer than the other children.  I could not run very fast or for very long without losing my breath.  I was prone to the few rare illnesses that affect the people.  My bones broke more easily…my fair skin bruised at the slightest bump or scrape.  I was so weak that I cannot remember a year in which I was not ill, did not have some broken bone or other ailment.

       I know my parents loved me, but they feared for me as well.  Many were the times that I heard them speaking of their fears that my poor health was somehow their fault, that I would not live to grow up.  I always wished there had been a way I could reassure them…but I was a child.  They did not want me to know that I knew they were afraid.  Parents are supposed to be strong and all knowing to their children…so that is what I let them be.  

       Now, with my physical weakness came an emotional weakness as well.  I was not stoic about my frequent injuries and illness…I did not handle adversity well.  The lightest rebuke from my parents, or the smallest injury was enough to make me cry.  I was also termed "painfully shy."  I never had a problem playing outside, but I preferred to play alone.  My parents thought this was because I was shy, but the truth of the matter was that I hated the other children.  They did not like me…I was not fun to play with…as I said, I cried far too easily and injured even more easily.  I could not stand up to any sort of rough games, and my tears only caused them to further upset me with their taunts.  The other children preferred far better to tease and torment me, rather than try to be my friends.  I do not suppose I encouraged them much, though.  I can still remember the names and faces of each child who called me names, played horrible pranks on me, or hurt me in some way.  I will not list them, or bore you by recounting them, though.  It is a pity that the memories that are fading do not seem to include those particularly painful ones…only the ones that I most wish to keep.

       Needless to say, with such "friends," I chose the better companions of books and solitude.  Though there were always the times that my parents would be upset at seeing my alone so much, and force me socialize.  The only times I did not mind so much were the times when they took me to the palace.  At least there I could speak with the older folk, who would be amused at my youthful speech, or at the very least, polite to me.  They were nobles, after all, and as such, knew how to put up a pleasing façade no matter what they might have thought of me.  Probably pity…and at the time pity was something I did not mind.  

I was always fondest of the Prince, Lamruil and his sister Princess Amnestria.  Though they were both much older than I, they treated me with respect, and like a child worthy of regard…not the frail sickly thing I was.  I never knew if they were so kind to me because they had been told to be so, or because that was they way they were…since I doubt I shall ever see either again, I prefer to think the latter rather than the former.  Many were the times that Lamruil drew my laughter from me with his antics, especially his commentaries on the silliness of the other nobles during some terribly important and serious moments.  The Princess was like her mother, in that I thought her beautiful and fair and wonderful.  She could bring forth my smiles, which had begun to grow rarer as I grew older.  They made me feel normal, and for that I will always treasure their memory.  I wonder if perhaps the Princess Amnestria is even now wed to her beloved, Elaith Craulnober?  Do they remember me at all, or have I faded from their minds, even as they begin to fade from mine?

       I know that I digress, but these are the things I think, and which are in my heart at the moment.  Yet I shall continue, for my tale is not yet told.

       With my frail constitution and my fondness for books and the written word, it was no surprise that my parents thought I would do well in the field of magic.  So at a fairly young age…I think I was barely twenty…Laeroth Runemaster, the Grand Mage of the Towers of the Sun and the Moon came to Leuthilspar to test children for magical talent.  I'm told that I amazed him, for I had more affinity, untrained, for the weave than did most of the current students, and even a few of the fully trained high magi.  The elder did not understand why, for great magical talent was not a thing that ran strong in either house Nightstar, or Hawksong.  My mother was a warrior and my father a musician…granted she knew a few magical tricks, and he was one of the rare spellsingers…but neither of them had anywhere near my potential.  That is why many thought that my ability might have had something to do with the night of my birth…still others thought that my affinity was perhaps part of the reason I was so frail…that physical strength had been sacrificed for magical aptitude.  

       Whatever the reason, I was still several years too young to begin training at the towers.  However, the mages of the towers began to send me books and scrolls to read…information on history and magical theory and whatever else they thought might interest me, and entice me to join them when I was old enough.

       Naturally my parents hinted that such a choice on my part could only be good for me.  They did want the best for me, I know, but as nobles, both of them, they perhaps had ulterior motives as well. I was almost certain to be appointed to high-mage training if I went to study at the towers…and having a high-mage in the family was a source of pride for any family …especially a noble house.  They also saw it as another way, I think, to protect me from the world outside Evermeet. In fact, they rarely told me of anyone of anything beyond Evermeet, except old histories of the people, and tales of the horrors caused by other races.  They did not want me to leave…afraid that to leave Evermeet would mean my death. As a high-mage, naturally, I would never have a reason to leave, for high-magic no longer works beyond the boundaries of Evermeet.  They never would have forced me to decide…still, I was their only and beloved child…I think they would have done anything to keep me safe.

       It is that lack of information about the outside world, which now keeps me trapped here on Ruathym.  I do not blame my parents, though, but my own lack of curiosity.  In the whole world, the only names I know to go to are Evermeet and Evereska…the homeland and refuge of the people, respectively.  These names are unknown to the people of Ruathym…and there are none of the people here to show me the way.  I do not even know where in the world I am…or what directions I must take to find my people again.  I am lost…and shall remain so, I fear, for a long time to come.

       When I was 20 years of age, my cousin Sylthas was born to my Aunt Halaema and her husband, my Uncle, Arient Rumithamal.  It was considered a "great event," for elven children are rare, and this was another child born to the leaders of house Nightstar.

       I did not like Sylthas much, I confess.  My parents did not understand this dislike…after all Sylthas was my first cousin.  Here would be a playmate for me who would not tease me, they said…but I knew the truth.  Sylthas was born healthy and hale…when he grew up, he would be like all the others…he would be as scornful of my weakness and prideful of his own strength.  Yet, it would be worse with Sylthas…so my "peers" informed me.  After all, I would be the only one in the way of Sylthas becoming the heir to the house Nightstar's leadership and all that came with it…he would know how "strong" I was…and it would not be unexpected if I died.

       I suppose I was unfair, in that I never gave Sylthas a chance to prove himself different…I merely ignored his presence.  It was easy because he was so much younger than I.  By the time he was old enough to care…to speak intelligent conversation, I was already immersed in my magical training…and so had no time for my unwanted cousin.

       At that time my studies in magic were the most important thing for me.  I had been accepted to the towers earlier than was usual, but it had not been unexpected.  I was quickly accounted as one of the best students, for I had a quick mind for magic and the skill to match. I focused completely on the use and theory of magic and elven history as well.  The latter was for the reason that the histories of the people and magic have ever been intertwined, and to fully understand one, one must learn the other.  I had little care for anything outside Evermeet, as my parents wanted.  Other cultures and histories did not interest me, although, in my defense I was rarely given the opportunity to learn of them.  I curse myself now for my lack of interest…had I only looked once at a current map of Faerun…thought even once to see where Evermeet lay in accordance to the rest of the world I might know where to go from here…but I am, and ever was a fool when it comes to common sense…another of my curses.

       I focused on my studies with a single-minded determination.  If I could but excel at magic, as my teachers assured me I would, that at least would make up somewhat for being born so weak.  And I aspired to be the high-mage they thought I could be…if only so that the others…my peers…would no longer make fun of me.  No one would trifle with a wizard of such power…not when such wizards have, historically, the power to create and destroy by will and skill…a power to defend the island even greater than the armies.

       Had things gone as my parents and I had planned I never would have left home and never would have wanted to.  But things that are so planned have a habit of going awry…or perhaps they go the ways that the gods wish, and not as we mortals do.

       Shortly after my 42nd year my received word from Evereska.  My grandfather, Cefwyn Nightstar had been injured in a battle, along with his wife, my grandmother.  She had been killed…he survived yet, but had been wounded and was unable to travel.  He did not expect to stay much longer in this world, and as such he called his family to him.  My mother, her sister, their husbands and children…myself and Sylthas.  There was never any question of our going…

       Aunt Halaema, Uncle Arient and Sylthas left immediately…my parents and I were forced to wait a week though, for I taken a fall and broken my leg and it would take that long to finish healing.  This delay proved to be shattering.

       We left on a ship out of the port of Leuthilspar.  I kept to my cabin as much as possible, immersed in yet another tome on elven history, this one an accounting of the Fall of Myth Drannor.  If I close my eyes, I can still see the words on the pages as though the book were still in front of me.  I only knew that we were going to Evereska to be with my grandfather.  The hows and whys were not anything that were important enough for me to ask.  I merely hoped that we would not have to take horses to get there…I rather dislike horses…even moon horses.  They all seem to have a penchant for knowing how nervous I am when riding one…and it was through a horse's efforts that my most recent injury had occurred.

       We were out in open water, with no land in sight when the storm struck.  It was swift and sudden and hit with the force of a hurricane.  The sailors were prepared for rough water, but nothing like this.  The wind shrieked and howled like some mad thing, and snapped the mast.  Huge waves battered the hull, filling the ship with water.  The sailors tried their best, I am certain, but the ship began to founder.  It was too late.  A call went out to abandon ship…though how they though we would survive the tempest any better in small lifeboats than we did in the larger ship was beyond me.  My parents and I gained topside, just in time for the wave that would be the ship's deathblow to strike.  The wave loomed over the ship, and crashed down on the deck with such force that it seemed like something solid had fallen on us.  I heard the tortured screech, as the timbers of the deck were ripped apart.  The ship turned completely on one side, and water from the ocean rushed up to meet us.  Sailors were swept away, screaming into the water.  The waves took ripped me from my parents' arms, and swept them away.  I had no time to be shocked, for trying to stay alive; afloat in the raging sea required all my focus.  I managed to catch hold of a board that had been torn from the ship…it kept me afloat, even as the waves tossed me about.  I swallowed water, and had trouble breathing as I was pulled under, then surfaced, again and again.  Lightning flared overhead and the last I saw was the wreckage of what had once been a grand ship sinking…being pulled into a watery grave.  I prayed to Corellon to protect my parents…but I knew that they had probably been killed.  I prayed to Deep Sashelas to save me.  Had I known what saving me would entail, I might've have wished for him to take me under, for then at least I would now be among my people.

       I tried, but after a while, I could no longer remain conscious…when I closed my eyes that day, I fully expected it to be for the last time on this world…that I would wake in Arvandyr.  

       What memories I have best are strange and unclear…I can remember calm…being underwater…arms around me…strange noises and sounds that almost sounded like language…and then finally, waking on a stony beach on the island of Ruathym…though that part was not know to me at the time.  I was so tired and weak I did not even have the strength to rise and seek aid.  I had nothing left of who I had been…my belonging were now at the bottom of the ocean…the waves had all but torn my clothes from my body…what was left was little better than rags.  It was on that beach, belong the village of Rylonar, that the Windreivers found me.  They frightened me when I first saw them, for they were as different from my people as a tree is to a stone.  They had pale skin, but with shades of red and pink…not blue or gold like the people.  Their hair was coarse and yellow, tangled from the wind and salty air.  They were huge and big, with rounded faces…Brander with hair covering his chin.  They made strange noises at me, speaking in their barbaric tongue.  Yet, even for my fear, I was glad to see anyone living.  They took me up the cliffs, back to their home.  

       My first days in their home are blurry and unclear as well.  I was terribly ill from my ordeal…I took with a fever and lay unresponsive for many days.  Ingrid, Brander's wife, worked tirelessly to keep alive.  She saved my life as much as whatever had drawn me from the sea and left me here.  During the time that I was ill she took to calling me the name Airk, after her deceased father…I suppose because she did not know my name, and needed something to call me.  

       When I finally awoke again, and recovered, I was needless to say, terrified.  Here I was in a strange place with people, the likes of which I had never seen.  I cried…constantly…for many, many weeks.  I wanted my parents…my family…anyone from home…but they were not here.  I suspected that my parents were dead, for I understood that I was the only one that had been found…that there had been no debris from a wreck…which meant that wherever the ship had gone down, it had been very far from here.

       Ingrid comforted me as best she could.  She seemed a nice enough woman, but strange to me.  I had no idea, at first, where I was…only that I was alone on an island full of huge, fair-haired people…I suspected that they were humans…but I could not be certain.  I had never seen a human before, only read about them in books.  I did not understand the language and their ways were different from everything that was familiar to me.

       Fortunately, though, I have always been a swift learner…and I began to pick up the language after only a few weeks.  It was a far simpler, and less refined than elven…a harsh coarse language that seemed torn from the throat, rather than smooth and flowing like the language of the people.

       I quickly learned several things…the most important was that I would not be going home anytime soon.  No one seemed to have heard of Evermeet or Evereska.  Even if they had, the Windreivers had no boat of their own…and there was nothing that I would have though strong enough to get past the defenses of Evermeet, anyhow.  I learned that Brander and Ingrid Windreiver were childless…and that they intended to keep me.  They are good people, I suppose…better than I might have wound up with…for there are people in this village that are cruel…and some that I would even term evil.  I learned that I was on Ruathym…an island of humans, as I had thought.  Ruathym is a cold, isolated place, completely surrounded by near-freezing waters.  There are deep inlets here, called fjords, sharp rocks and reefs in the water…the landscape is rocky and barren as well, with only a very few forests left.  The few trees here, in the seaside village of Rylonar, at the southern-most end of the island, where I live, are twisted and thin, clinging to rocky, dry soil, tortured by the strong winds that rise up from the water.  The people of Ruathym are not farmers…but traders…and they do not produce their own goods…for there is little to be found on Ruathym but water and stone and a few forested areas, further inland…many here raid for their trade goods…stealing from people who live on the mainland, and south, on the people who live on an island chain called the Moonshaes.  My new "father" Brander was such a raider…a warrior, and also skilled in crafting weapons and armor…all made from metals that were taken by force.  

       Unlike Evermeet, among the people, where men and women are equals, I have learned that among humans, woman are considered second-class…weaker and less intelligent than men.  Some men here consider women to be of less worth that their boats, or a beast of burden…they see wives as little better than slave labor, there to cook and clean, and bear children. They are not warriors, and never hold positions of power. What I saw with Brander and Ingrid was rare here, though.  They seemed to be truly in love with each other…it was the reason they had chosen to stay together, even though they were childless…even though they might have found a better life, or had the children that they both so wanted, with another.  Brander did not treat Ingrid like a slave, but seemed to appreciate her efforts…spoke to her of his day and listened to her words as well.  This was not something unfamiliar to me, for it had been so with my parents…but I quickly learned that Brander and Ingrid were considered "odd" by many of the other people in the village.

       As time went on, and I learned more, I forced to resign myself to the truths of my situation.  My parents were gone...dead.  I would not likely see them again in this life. That thought made me cry often…and still saddens me greatly even today…but I know that my parents would not want me to give up.  They would have wanted me to move on with my life. I am trapped on Ruathym…it is as though I am on a different world, it is so different.  Even if I left, it would only be to another place that I did not know…with people who did not know me.  At least here, I had the Windreivers…they wanted me here…wanted me to be the son they could not have.  Already I feel Ingrid's love for me.  I had nowhere else to go…not until I can learn my way home.  So I moved on.  

       I learned the language, taught by my new, foster mother Ingrid.  I learned to answer to the name Airk Windreiver…my new "parents" had trouble speaking the name "Keledrial"…and since, in a way, I am no longer Keledrial anymore, it seemed appropriate that I put away my old name, as I was being forced to put aside my old life as well.  As soon as my command of the language was strong enough, Brander forbade me to use my old language…for my own good, of course…it did not do to dwell on the past he told me.  So I did what he said…I treasure my memories and my past…but I do not dwell on them.

       The people here knew of what I was, though.  They called me "alfar," and I soon learned that this was their word for "elf."  I gained many stares from the other Ruathen, for many thought of the "alfar" as a myth.  Some thought that I was interesting, a thing to be watched, but those same people seemed to think that I possessed little intelligence, and spoke about me as though I was not there.  Other claimed that my coming was a bad omen, and blamed me for any misfortune which came about.  Ultimately, though, the novelty of what and who I was began to wear off.  I was not truly accepted, but the Ruathen of my village began to accept my presence, and accept that I was the Windreiver's adopted son.

       To distract myself from the pain and terrible loss I felt, I threw myself into my new role with a single-minded determination.  I became Airk Windreiver …no longer Keledrial, an elven youth in training to be a wizard…but Airk…a Ruathym child.  Even had I wanted to continue with my study of magic, it would have been impossible.  Here on Ruathym, magic is not taught, or spoken of…the people here fear and distrust magic…the only ones with power here are the shamans…those whose spells come from the divine powers…not the weave.  I have learned not even to speak of the subject of magic, for my foster father gets angry if I do.

       Brander is a good man…but he is a demanding one as well.  After it became apparent that I was well again, and past my sickness…that I learned the language enough to understand him, and to accept that I was now his "son," Brander informed me that I was going to "regain" my strength.  I tried to tell him that I had no strength to begin with…but he either did not care or did not understand.  I quickly learned that weakness is not tolerated on Ruathym…had I been an actual child of the Ruathen humans…born the way I was, I would probably have been left to die.  They cannot afford to have anyone among them without strength enough to survive in this harsh place.  

       So, Brander told me that I would be accompanying him to forge, where he worked, and working along side of him.  I began to cry at the thought of having to do so much work…of how the effort would cause me to lose my breath, and how I would inevitably hurt myself somehow.  Brander slapped me.  I had never been actually hit before.  It was a terrible shock. It startled me so much that I stopped crying even before I had begun.

       "Never cry!" Brander ordered me.  "Only women cry, Airk.  For all your pretty hair, you are no girl.  Crying is a weakness.  You are my son now, and I never want to see you crying again. Do you understand me? "  I nodded, mutely, my hand to my stinging face, the last of my tears drying on my cheeks.  I do not cry anymore, as Brander ordered me.

       My foster father, as I've said, is not a bad man…only a hard man.  He knows what it is to survive, and he passes these lessons on to me, as his son.

       In the time I've been here, things have changed drastically for me.  I went to work with my foster father, as he said he would.  And a strange thing began to happen, and is still happening to this day…I've no reason for it.  The work I had fully expected to kill me made me stronger, as Brander had said.  I did not feel so weak as time passed…my breath stayed in my chest…I still bruised…but only that…no more breaks.  I can't help wondering what it is on Ruathym that causes this change in me.  

       So, I've learned these years to be as the Ruathen are.  I 've learned to walk and speak like the Ruathen…all though I speak far slower and more deliberately now, so that the people here can understand me.  I have a strange accent, they say, and I speak too quickly to for them to comprehend…so I slow my speech down, and even now, I work on trying to relieve myself of my "troublesome" accent.  

       I wear my hair as the Ruathym do, in braids, with barbaric adornments, like feather and stones…in that they remind much of the Sylvan people.  The clothing they wear is warm, but simple…usually made of wool or leather, and other sturdy materials that hold up well against the weather.  Things that they can trade easily for… I eat their food…also plain, without the rich sauces or spices I knew from home…yet the food still tastes well enough, for my foster mother is a good cook.  And it is filling and strengthening, or so she tells me.  I tried their "sleeping," but I find that reverie is still more restful.  Yet, I have learned to wait for reverie until the deepest part of the night, so that my foster parents do not see. It bothers them, and so I must wait until they sleep.

       I began following Brander around much, to other villages to deliver his goods, sometimes even as far away as the mountains, which bisect the island.  I have been with him to the city of Ruathym, which is, in truth, hardly a city.  It is the largest town on the island, however, and home of the First Axe, who is considered the leader of the Ruathen…even though the people here hardly seem to  have a leader.

       I have heard that, somewhere in the town of Ruathym, there is a place called the Green Room, and that it is a place where many stolen books are kept.  It is more of a treasure room for the people here, for as I said, they care nothing for the knowledge that can be found within the pages.  For a short while I sought to find this place, but my foster-father forbade it, seeing no reason why I should go there.  He would not speak of it further, and I was unable to ask any questions to others.  The latter was because Brander was always with me, for I was still a "child," and also because the people in Ruathym, who were not used to me, as were the people of my village, stared and pointed and whispered, and seemed so amazed that I could speak, when I did, that they never answered my questions, merely marveled over the questions themselves.

       As time had passed, so too have the traces of the frail sickly boy that I was.  I do not know what it is here…be it the air, or the water, or the magic that I can feel, thrumming and strong within the very earth of this island…but it has made me stronger.  Last year, my foster father began to train me in the ways of a warrior of Ruathym.  He says that I have grown big enough to learn, and that someday, when I am old enough and trained enough to past the tests, I will go raiding with him.  I cannot say whether or not this makes me happy.  True I will have something more to do with my days than merely hammer away and work the bellows in my foster father's forge, and run errands for I am quick.  But the raiding part…I cannot say I like the idea of having to do such…or even that that is where my father gets the money and goods for us to live here. It seems a dishonorable trade, though honor hardly seems as important among the Ruathen as it does among the people.  But I will learn whatever they have to teach me here…some day, if I survive this…and as time goes on, I begin to think that I might…I will return home to my people…and perhaps they will benefit from what I have gone through.  

       But now, the night is ending, and the morning draws closer.  I have not had reverie this night, and I shall be tired in my work.  Besides, I am nearly out of ink, and parchment as well.  So for now, I will put what I have written away.  When I have supplies again, time enough, and things to say I shall write again.  Until then, I pray that Corellon watches over my family.  I know he cannot watch over me any longer…in Ruathym only the god of battle, Tempus, the goddess of the water, Umberlee, and the goddess of cold and winter, Auril, have sway…and may Corellon forgive me for my praise to Tempus…I say it to please my foster parents…and to keep myself alive…I would not be accepted were it known I still follow my "heathen" gods…as though I were the barbarian on this island, and not the humans who dwell here.  Until next,            **Keledrial Nightstar**

It has been long since I last wrote anything…I think perhaps five years…but those pages are not here…my foster father awoke whilst I was still penning them and burned the pages.  He is ever fearful of my doing things that will keep me from being accepted...not that I will ever truly be Ruathen …I am still too much an alfar…still too different from them, no matter how much I have changed.  So I suppose that I should say it has been nigh onto 14 summers since the last pages here.  It has been 18 since the shipwreck and my consequent arrival here.  It has been 3 years since I underwent the rites of passage into Ruathym society.  I am now considered an adult among them, and a warrior as well.  I will not speak of the things I underwent in the rites, for they still haunt me…the times I was closest to death…the things I did…they haunt me, and yet I am proud of them.  I passed the tests, all rigorous…tests involving my physical strength, my endurance, my dexterity, my knowledge at arms, my stealth.  The hardest to pass for me was the test of faith…for they meant faith to Tempus…and while I have come to know the religion, and understand that Tempus, while a god of battle, is a strong, honorable god.  Yet my in my heart I am still loyal to Corellon first and foremost, and I still feel guilt each time I cry out to Tempus, when it is to Corellon I should call out to.  I wonder, perhaps, if Tempus saw this, and accepted my decision, even if that decision is to remain loyal took my potential worship from him…or perhaps it is just that Tempus does not wish an elven follower.  In either case, I passed the tests.

  Things have changed greatly.  I have changed.  I am no longer what I once was…and only in this …my ability to write…which I confess, has grown rusty with disuse…this, and my reverie still reminds me that I was Keledrial Nightstar once.

I have become Airk Windreiver.  To that name I answer.  I am a warrior of Ruathym…more than a warrior, but a berserker as well.  My father was so proud the day I went into my first rage.  I was sent to Holgerstead to train to control the battle rage the very next day.  I have trained hard ever since.  After all, it would not do to have a berserker who could not tell friend from foe in battle.

It has been very hard for me, for many of the other berserkers training in Holgerstead did not accept me as a warrior.  I was too small, too frail, and an alfar, as well.  I suppose that they thought that only humans, such as themselves could be among those who rage.  I pray, though, that I will remain what I am, and never become hamfariggen, as many of the greatest berserkers are.  To be such, is to take the shape of a great animal when enraged.  Though I have heard of the lythari …shape-changers among the People, the thought of changing into an animal reminds me far too much of the lycanthropy disease I once read about.  So I will pray that such does not happen to me.  My skill in arms is great, though, as I never would have thought possible, once.  There are many, though, who are better than I.  I am still a novice, and will continue training for several more years before I will be allowed to go on a raid.  Normally, I would have gone after I passed the rites…but I am different than the others…so things are different for me.  Besides…I do not know that I am yet ready for what will come with a raid.  I have heard the tales…tales from the lips of my own father.  I know of the blood, and screams and cries that I will hear…I know that I will be the villain, the attacker …that the people I will attack will only be protecting their families and homes.  I cannot say that I am yet ready to assume that role.  I had hoped I might be gone from here before that day I arrived, but it will not happen.  I have not been off the island in all this time.  And I feel loyalty…even love for these human parents of mine.  I feel I cannot desert them…no Ruathen son would leave his parents as they grow older…I know that I must wait for their lives to spend out…it will not be long…maybe 30 or 40 years more at the most…and lives can be cut short by other factors than age…not that I would wish this for them.  I do care for them.  I know it seems like a long time…and I could, no doubt escape on my first raid…but I do not know any longer that I wish to "escape".  Oh it is true, I wish to return to the elves…but what will be waiting there for me?  If my Aunt and Uncle are still alive, they will be in control of the house.  All this time, Sylthas will have been heir. My parents will not be there, waiting.  Will I be welcomed, as a lost one returning home…or looked on as an interloper?  I think that when I do return, they will not even recognize me, any more.  As I said, I have changed.

Time on Ruathym has made me strong…but more than that, I have grown…grown more than is possible, I think.  In Ruathym, I am still small, for a man…the men here are all at least 6 feet in height…most though are 7 and more.  My father Brander is 7 feet tall…my mother, Ingrid is 6 feet.  I know that most people in Ruathym are very tall, but here, in Rylonar they are even taller…something in the water I suppose.  And whatever it is that makes these people so big and healthy has affected me.  I am now as tall as my mother, and wider than she is.  Like I said, small for a Ruathen man…yet I am not Ruathen, nor human.  I am an elf.  One of the people.  We do not grow this big.  The tallest elves I ever had account to see was King Zaor and his son Prince Lamruil…they were both of great height…Prince Lamruil already 6 feet…and he younger than I now am…King Zaor stood a hand span above six feet...I am nearly that tall…and yet, he did not achieve such height until he was grown…by elven standards, I am still a youth.  I feel, too, that I am not yet done with this growing.  It seems that I outgrow my clothing ever year or so, much to my mother's dismay, for it is she who must sew me new garments.  She does not complain, though…her smiles are bright when she looks on me, odd as I am.  After all, I am the only son she has.

I wish that my elven parents could see me now…they once feared so much for me…yet here I stand, taller and stronger than any elf I remember from Evermeet.  Though my skill with weapons is not yet refined, I am a warrior.  And somehow…it is not enough.  I thought once that all I would wish is to be a fighter…like the King…but my heart misses the magic.  I once knew how to hold the weave in my hands, how to bind it to my will, and shape magic to spells.  I still want the magic, along with the skill at arms. Does that seem greedy to you?  But magic must wait…I cannot have it, nor learn it here on Ruathym.  But I feel it, and that is something I cannot give up or change.  It is all around me, here in the village…I breathe it in the air, and drink it in the water…this is a great place of power, though the Ruathen do not know it.  It is, perhaps, what make the people of this village so powerful.  Still, I remember that someone once said that my lack of strength might have been because I was so strong in magic.  Maybe that is why I flourish here.  There is that much magic in this place.

I have made a friend.  Perhaps this does not seem significant, but to me, it is.  He is human, naturally, but then, what other kind of creature would I find here on Ruathym?  I met him shortly after I began training, though he has always lived here.  Now, you must understand, that though my parents care for me, few are the other people in the village who do.  I am accepted because people respect my father, Brander, and they like my mother, for she is a "good woman."   But were it not for my parents, I doubt I would be as tolerated as I am.  

Where the adults were forced to treat me well enough, their children were not.  The other Ruathen children were cruel…as cruel as the elven children had once been…but unlike the elves, they had no compunctions about hitting me…hurting me.  My parents never intervened.  In Ruathym, fighting among children is considered as a way to make children stronger…to foster the warrior skills that most will need when they grow older.  And the only children I "played" with were the boys. Girls and boys did not play together…the girls were often kept by their mother's side to learn of women's work.  

Now, even though I am stronger and bigger than I once was, I am still smaller and frailer than most of the Ruathen youths.  They beat me up repeatedly, until I finally began to fight back…and then they would attack in groups.  Until, once day, about a year ago, one of the other young men stepped in, and began throwing punches at his fellows.  The others were shocked that one of their own was helping me…their shock gave us time enough to win.  When it was over, I wiped the blood from my lip, where one of the other young men had split it, and turned to my unexpected comrade.  I vaguely remembered that his name was Eirik Ivarsson…his father was a chieftain from the next village over.  He was about my height…and a fraction of my age, but having passed his rites the year before, he was a man, as I was.  Unlike most of the Ruathen, he had ink black hair, bound in braids, and held back from his face by a leather thong.  His eyes were green…a bright, dark shade of green…almost the color of mine. Strange eyes…at least for the people of Ruathym.

"Why did you help me?" I asked, slowly.  He shrugged.

"I have seen you…you always fight bravely, though they outnumber you.  If they were honorable, they would fight you one to one…I merely thought to even the odds."

"You have my thanks…though I wish that I had not needed the aid," I held my hand out to him.  He clasped it, and grinned.

"It is a strong man who does not need aid, but even a stronger man who accepts help when he does."  His words made sense to me, and displayed a rare intelligence that I rarely saw among the other Ruathen.  

"Come my friend…Airk, isn't it?" I nodded, amazed, too, that he knew my name.

"Let us go down to the tavern and have a drink, for the battle has given me a thirst.  We shall talk."  And so I went with him that day.  We had our drink, and we began to talk. 

It was a great relief to find a friend in Eirik.  He had a keen intellect, and was amusing, and he listened to the things I had to say.  He asked about my past…a thing that no one…not even my parents had ever thought to.  In my eagerness to have someone in whom I could confide, I told him all the things I could remember…I told him of Evermeet, and my elven parents, of the storm, even that I knew how to read and write.  I think he was impressed, and he marveled at the descriptions of my home.

"Imagine...whole roads made of crystals!" he would exclaim…I knew it had to be hard to believe, living here with streets of dirt and granite…living in houses of wood and mortar.

Eirik was a berserker, as well…and heir to his father's chieftainship.  His father was Ivar, First Axe of Woden, the town closest to our village.  He laughed, confiding that he had three younger sisters, and not one brother.  I asked him about his hair and eyes once, and he became saddened for a moment.

"They are my mother's eyes," he said.  "She was a slave, taken by my father on a raid from the mainland…He loved her and made her his wife, even though many looked down on him for doing so.  She had the blood of your people…but she was not full blood, like you.  Her eyes were the same green as yours…as mine, and her hair was black.  I vaguely remember her, but she died when I was young…in childbed.  My father took a new wife, but he does not care for her as he cared for my mother, I think.  I remember she would sing to me…in the language of her mother's people…your people, Airk," then he laughed, shook his head, grinned at me.

"I am certainly a melancholic fool…it is weakness, of that I am certain.  My father would not be glad to know that I still long for my mother after all this time…but you…you understand, don't you, Airk?  Here we sit, drinking," he hoisted his mug and downed half of it, "And moping about what we cannot have.  Come…I tire of this…we will go outside, and I shall bloody your nose."  We rose and went out, for in Ruathym fighting, even among friends was a well looked upon pastime.

He did bloody my nose…but I blacked his eye…and when we were done, we went back into the tavern for another pint…or five.

I cannot say how much Eirik's friendship means to me.  I no longer feel so alone, so isolated.  I no longer feel as though my past is some tainted thing I must never speak of.  I do not feel as inferior.  Though, I cannot say that keeping me as a friend was good for Eirik.  He certainly got enough taunts whenever he was seen in my company.  Though to his credit, he either ignored the taunts, or pounded the speaker into the ground.  

I confess that I have begun to emulate him more and more.  My father says nothing but good things, for he thinks that Eirik is a fine comrade for me to have, that he can only be a good influence.  In a way, I suppose he is.  Well, I must now cease my writing once again.  I can think of little more to say, and run low on paper again.  I shall continue when I have the time, supplies, and thought to do so.

              Keledrial Nightstar/Airk Windreiver 

       I am now a raider, like my father.  It has been three years since I went on my first raid.  Summer came that year, and my father stated that I was ready.  We went to Woden with the rest of the warriors, laden only with our clothing, or weapons and food.  Everything else we would take.  We would be gone the whole summer, maybe even longer, my father told me, rowing from shore to shore, town to town. Eirik's father had several longships, which we would sail in. This year, he told me, we would raid the mainland, although sometimes the Ruathen go south, and raid the Moonshaes.  We rowed out from the island, than raised the sails, and set out.  Because of my friendship with Eirik, my father and I had been invited onto the chieftain's boat…a rare honor.  At first I thought that I could not do what they wanted.  How could I go into another's home and take what was no rightfully mine?  How could I kill people who were only defending what was theirs?  But Eirik spoke with me at length over the days before and during the journey.  It was our way, he told me.  The Ruathen have always been raiders, for there is nothing else for them to be.  The land on the island is too rocky for farming; we have nothing with which to trade…if we did not raid, the people could not survive.  In my heart I wanted their to be some other way, some other answer…but I could not think of one…could think of nothing to refute the reasons Eirik had put forth.  I had to survive too…so I gave in.  Eirik saw my dismay, and told me quietly,

"Airk…I know you think this is wrong…but so do I.  There is no other way for us.  We are Ruathen.  It is our way.  When we go to battle we must not think of the people in those villages are victims…they are our enemies…they would see us starve and die.  We must fight them as one would fight an honored enemy.  Kill quickly…be merciful…but do not hesitate, for they will view us in the same light."  I nodded, his words held sense, but little comfort.  Still, he was right…I would do what I must.  Survival is what matters…and for warriors, especially berserkers like Eirik and myself, conscience in not a luxury we can afford to have.

We attacked…village after village.  I will not give the details.  I had been trained well…after the first man I killed, I did not flinch.  I killed again and again…people armed with swords…people armed with farming implements…men and women…any who stood against us.  My heart cried out at the wrongness…but eventually, even that too grew silenced as killing came more easily to my hands.  And I was good at my new trade…we took spoils…gold, crops, supplies…anything that might fetch a price.  We raided towns, villages, churches…I stood side by side with my father…fought along with Eirik. Though when we were done sacking a village, I did not join in with "amusements" after…which usually involved the despoilment of the young village girls left alive.  We did not kill everyone…we never did.  If we did, then the villages would not rebuild…if they did not rebuild, we would eventually run out of people on which to raid.  It made sense, in a sick sort of logic.

We returned home that summer, our ships laden with goods, triumphant conquerors.  It has been two years since…and each year, the protests of my heart and soul grow quieter.  I am a killer…and I fear that I may becoming something worse…I fear I am becoming irrevocably Ruathen.  I begin to wonder…how long does it take before some one like me ceases to be what they were…and becomes what they are.  How long will it be before I am less elf than human?  I cannot remember the faces of my parents anymore…never awake, anyhow.  And Evermeet seems distant and hazy…more like a dream than reality.  What is happening to me?                                  

                           Keledrial/Airk

       Strange things have happened these past three years. Very strange things.  It began when Aumark Lithyl became the First Axe of Ruathym.  When he did so, he united the people of the island, a thing which I did not think possible.  The people seem to respect him, for his strength, his bravery and his leadership.  I have not met him, though I have seen him from afar, so I cannot say the truth of this.  

       Then it happened.  It came with out warning, but I felt it.  The magic of the weave flickered, and I felt a terrible change occur.  I cannot say what it was.  The skalds call it "The Time of Troubles," which is the name that the mainlanders gave the year.  It was a time when the gods walked the land in mortal forms, I am told.  I know little of why it happened, only that during that year, the magic of the world felt strange, and troubled to me.  Chaotic.  I've heard that gods rose and fell, some were even killed.  I do not know the details, and I prayed that Corellon was not among those who fell.  The magic of the shamans failed as well, with no gods to grant them power.  Many people who were ill, and wounded died for lack of healing.  

       And on Ruathym, the people here bore witness to a terrible battle, when two gods who fell here began to battle.  I did not witness the battle myself, and many who did, did not survive to tell of it.  Yet I know what happened.  They say that a god of the alfar, my people was one, that it was Labelas Enoreth, who fell here to Ruathym in a mortal form.  The other god was a dwarven deity, called Clangeddin.  I confess, I know little about most religions, and even less about dwarven ones.  Yet they said that this dwarven god was one of battle.  How the fight began, I cannot say, but it raged for days over the span of the island.  In the end, it was Labelas who triumphed over Clangeddin, a fact which did not surprise me.  After all, the People have ever been stronger and better than the dwarven folk…why would our gods be any less?  

       Now, when word of this battle reached my village, I wanted to go see it at once.  Part of me just wanted to witness it, while another part hoped that I might attract the attention of Labelas Enoreth, that he might be able to help me to know the way home.  After all, it is said that Evermeet is merely an extension of Arvandyr, and Arvandyr is the home of our pantheon.  But my foster-father forbade it.  He would not hear of me going, for the danger was too great, even for the Ruathen people, brave as they are.  Yet, I think it was also that he feared my going, not for my life, but for the fact that I might not return, that I would choose to leave if given the chance.  I cannot say what I might have done, for the choice was taken from me before I had it.  My father kept me hard at work in the forge, giving me little time to think, and keeping me too wearied to leave.  I was angry at him for this, and we did not speak for many weeks after.  

       The Time of Troubles passed though… why it had begun was as much a mystery to me as its ending.  I felt the magic stabilize again, and the shamans' spells were renewed once more.    My anger was still there, for I had missed perhaps my only chance to escape.  My mood was not pleasant for a long time.

       Then, this past year, another strange occurrence happened, this one far more ominous to me than the other.

       Word reached us that a dok-alfar was on the island, in the town of Ruathym.  A dok-alfar…dark-elf…drow elf.  The people of the island, I am told welcomed the creature and her companion…the fools!  Do they not realize how vile and evil the drow are? !  Did they not know what manner of darkness they had allowed onto the island?  Indeed, welcomed?  Then more stories came to us…the…woman…and her human companion were on a quest…that she had saved the lives of the people of one of the villages…strange occurrences were happening all over the island, it seemed.  Then word came to us that Holgerstead had been attacked, that the First Axe there lingered near death and had named the drow's human companion as First Axe in his stead, as the human was the last living hamfariggen on Ruathym.  The whole tale smacked of drow treachery to me.  I wished to go to Ruathym, seek out this drow bitch and cut her down with my axe.  I tried to explain to my father what was happening, but he would hear none of it.  The dok alfar, he said, was honored for her bravery, and to harm her would be a terrible dishonor.  He would not hear my words about what I knew of the drow people…he claimed my anger was childish, that I had not, apparently, grown up yet…that I was jealous that there was another alfar on the island besides myself.  I was enraged.  How could he possible compare me to… a drow?!!  

I went far from my home, that night, walking down along the edge of the fjords, screaming my anger at the water.  I hoped that the Ruathym suffered whatever treachery the drow meant.  I hoped they died for it.  I destroyed everything I could, in my anger, throwing rocks from the cliffs, tearing plants from the ground and hurling them far from me.  I walked many miles, until I was far from Rylonar.  I stayed away for many days, wandering about in places I had not gone before.  There were ruins on Ruathym…some were said to be remnants of an old dwarven civilization that had once lived here, before the humans came.  I spent several nights in one such ruin.  I do not know what I hoped to accomplish my running away, only that I think, had I stayed, I might have lost control, gone berserk, and harmed people in my village.  

I marveled, when I finally calmed, over the ignorance of humans.  The elven folk are far superior.  The elves treat women as equals, not as chattel.  An elf would realize that a woman, especially a drow woman, could be far more dangerous than any man.  An elf would know to watch for lies and trickery.  Not so the humans.  She was an "alfar" to them…to be marveled over… certainly not dangerous though, despite the powers that the drow witch had already shown.  She was the "belonging" of the fool, human, berserker she was with…more likely the other way around to my thinking.  An elf would never be so stupid…but no one here would listen to my words, for like the drow, I am still treated as an oddity, no matter that I am a warrior among them, and adult by their own laws.  I hate Ruathym.

       The weeks passed that I did not return. And finally, it was Eirik who found me.  I saw him approach from a distance, and watched as he grew closer.  I did not stand when he walked up to me, nor did I turn my gaze from the sea…the damned prison of an ocean.  

       "Are you ready to return?" he asked, without preamble.

       "I will not return until the bitch, dok-alfar has left these shores…for I would seek her out and kill her…thus bringing disgrace to my family and your father, by my actions to rid Ruathym of the evil that worms its way among us," I replied, my tone full of scorn and bitterness.

       "She is gone, Airk," Eirik stated.  "Left this past week to return to the mainlands…though…she was asked if she wished to stay."  I turned to him then, and I know what a strange sight I made, for Eirik has spoken of how he recoiled at the vision…the wind was strong and my hair was tangled from many days of being ill-cared for.  My eyes, he said, seemed to blaze an eerie, fey green, and he wondered if I was mad.

       "Humans are fools…all of you," I sneered, not bothering to suppress my accent.  "You are blind to the magic beneath your feet, and blind to the evil before your eyes.  The gods themselves turned black the skin of the drow, to reflect the evil in their hearts, and you welcome such a creature to live among you.  And no matter how much I am forced into the mold you have made for yourselves, I will never be that blind!"

       "She saved us, Airk…Luskan and creatures from the sea would have slaughtered us while we left the island unguarded, and she kept us from the course of folly."

       "If she did, it was only because doing so matched her purpose here, and nothing else…certainly nothing of honor or bravery," I turned to him, standing.  "You do not understand, Eirik Ivarsson, and none of the people here do…there is no…such…thing…as…a…good…drow!" I thundered.  He took a step backwards, narrowed his eyes.

       "If we are so foolish and weak in your eyes, Airk…and you so very clever, then why do you not return to your own people …alfar?"   I felt the anger drain from me, then…Eirik reminded me that I was still trapped here, and too foolish and weak to find my own way home.  He reminded me that I would never fit in…  I shook my head, sitting back down.

       " I cannot…besides…even if I did, I do not think they would want me among them, not any more than the people here do.  I think," I gazed back to the sea… "That it might have been better if my foster parents had left me to die…"

"Stop acting like a child, Airk," Eirik snapped, angered at my behavior.  I laughed bitterly, and looked back to him.

"Among the alfar, I am still a child…or would have been."  I do not think he believed me, even though it was true.  He ended up picking a fight with me, and when we were both bruised and bloodied, he convinced me to return to Rylonar, that I was being a fool.  After all, was not the drow bitch gone?  What did it matter any more?  

So I went home…my parents welcomed me back with not a word of reproach, though I sensed my father's displeasure, evident in the long hours he made me work at the forge.  Things went back to normal, but in my heart, I cannot forget the anger I felt, the aloneness I still feel.  I imagine that this is what some of the Cha Tel'Quessir feel…trapped between two worlds, which they can never fully be a part of.  Sickening, isn't it?  Well, I know that it time to stop writing when I begin to liken myself to the half-breeds.  

                     Keledrial/Airk

       I am growing older… it grows hard to count time, so I am never certain how much has passed.  It has been over ten years since I began raiding, I think.  My parents have grown old.  Their hair is far more white than blond.  Their joints begin to creak with age.  Father still spends his time at the forge, and I help him all year, except for the summers…the raids.  Mother still does what she has always done...woman's work…cooking and cleaning, sewing and repairing.  She is a good woman…I feel sad that she does not have a daughter to aid her with these tasks when she can.  I do what little I can, but she does not accept my help.  I am a warrior…it is not for me to do women's work, she says.  My father would not like it if he caught me…so I do not help her.  It is the way of humans…the way of the Ruathen.  

       I have done something terrible…something I cannot forget or forgive myself for doing.  I hate myself for doing it.  I say excuses to myself.  If the other men had not taunted me so…if even one of the Ruathen women had shown the slightest interest in me…if I had not lost my temper… but they hold no comfort.  I shall write of what happened, if only as a penance for my soul.  Today I am glad that my elven parents did not survive…my elven mother would hate me for how far I have fallen…how terribly human I have become.  In truth, I am the barbarian that I once thought the Ruathen to be.  

       It was on a raid, of course…the morals of the men, even myself, degrade and erode whenever we raid.  It is the bloodlust, perhaps…and the continuous raging and battle.  They say what we do is glory for Tempus…but is this truly the way of the god of battle?  

       We were on the mainland, this year...somewhere off the coast, south of Luskan.  On one of the last villages we meant to raid before returning home.  My father no longer goes on the raids, for his joints had grown weak.  Eirik was not with me either…his father had died the previous year, and he had had to go to the other chieftains of the area, to demand that they recognize his role as our new leader.  It was an important tradition, and the other chieftains would not show him respect if he did not.  They might even choose to attack the villages that Eirik hold sway over.  So Eirik did not come with us.  

       Without my father, and without Eirik, I had no one to talk with, and no one with me that the other warriors respected.  I was alone.  They taunted me from the first, baited me.  You see, I was only 6 and a half feet…I had stopped growing.  I was beardless, when all the others had grown theirs long ago.  I still looked young while my peers grew older, took wives, had children.  Despite the fact that they all knew I was older than they, they called me a child.  They laughed at the fact that I had never had a woman…for no Ruathen women wanted me...and I did not take my pleasure on the captured, as they did.  They called me a freak, said that perhaps I was more fond of men than women.  They asked if that was why I followed Eirik around so much… Then they said that my "other" blood made me weak…that I was weak and would never truly be a man…would never be anything but a weak, pathetic, child that the Windreiver's should have thrown back out to sea when they'd found me.  

       In that moment I truly was weak…weak in will, for I gave into their taunts, gave into my rage and anger.  I was tired of being the focus of their mocking jests…always the one left outside the group, no matter if they be elven or human.  I was tired at never being able to live up to the standards of whatever people I was living with.  I was tired of always being alone.  I was tired of being thought **weak**.  Had I been strong I would have attacked them…never mind that they probably would have killed me…and then told the people back home that I had died in battle.  But I did not.  In my rage and frustration I turned to someone who did not deserve to be the focus of it.  

       She was very pretty, I remember her face well…it will be eternally etched in my mind.  She had dark hair, soft and curly, messy from trying to run…trying to hide.  She was standing among the other captured village girls…the ones that had not yet been claimed by any of the warriors.  Her eyes were wide and brown…red from crying, already.  I stormed over to where she was, and grabbed her…I don't know why I chose her…maybe she was the closest…She started crying and struggling immediately.  But I am stronger than a woman, if not much else.  I dragged her into one of the houses nearby, in full view of the others.  I heard their laughter, their calls to prove myself.  I knew they would be listening…knew what they would be waiting to hear.  In my anger, I gave them what they wanted…but the cost was a piece of my soul that I cannot recover.

       I threw her to the ground, tore the clothing from her body.  I held her down with the strength of my arms when she began to fight me.  She begged…pleaded with me not to do this, not to hurt her…to stop…to let her go.  Fresh tears fell from her eyes…yet I ignored her pleas.  I was determined that the others would finally accept that I was no child…that I was not weak.  They would not laugh at me any more, I thought…and in truth, they do not laugh…not any more.  

       At that point in time, I was still a virgin…had never touched a woman as a man does.  I accepted that I was nothing special…that I was not attractive to the Ruathen women…and I supposed, I would not be attractive to any elven women any more, either…not looking the way I do now…a freak in both worlds.

       All the same, I knew what to do.  After living so long in a one-room house with my parents…after hearing the stories and boasts of the other men…I knew what to do.  

I raped her.               

     I held her down, and forced myself into her, even as she screamed for me not to.  At first, the sensation of being inside a woman felt good.  I could understand why men did what they did to experience sex.  I felt powerful and strong… but then I opened my eyes and looked down at her…into her eyes.  Knowing that I was the cause of her fear, her pain, her humiliation…I felt terrible.  I felt lower than the dirt on which I'd thrown her.  Any pleasure I felt deserted me at that moment.  She stopped screaming, merely laid there, as though in a daze, as I finished with her, emptied myself into her.  When I pulled away, and released her hands, she did not move, did not try to escape as she'd done before…she merely lay there, crying and shaking.  

       I realized then, what I had done.  I'd done more than just hurt her…I'd taken from her something I had no right to… something that should have been hers alone, to give or withhold… not just some gold bauble, or material belonging, but a piece of herself…of her soul…and all for the sake of my wounded pride.

       I sat back, disgusted with myself…hating myself.  What would my mothers think?  I wondered at that moment.  My elven mother…she would not be proud of me…she would be ashamed.  Even my human mother, Ingrid, would be disappointed.  She did not approve what went on when we went raiding, though she did often say that she understood that men felt they had to do certain things.  No…they would not be proud of me…and I will never be proud of myself.

       Shaking now, myself, I began to mummer apologies.

       "I am sorry…so sorry…" but I do not know if she heard me, understood, or cared.  I rummaged through the house, found some water and cloth.  I gently cleaned her off…washed the blood…and other fluid from her thighs.  She did not even move, except to shiver and sob again.  I pulled my tunic off and gave it to her…to cover up, for her own clothing was in ruins.  I knew I could not hurt her again…would not let any one else hurt her.  I'd done enough harm on my own.  

But how to keep her safe from the others?  I knew that if I brought her out and returned her to the other captives, that she would just be taken and raped again by another one of the Ruathen.  After all…it is our way…  So I thought of an idea…the girl would have to help, if she wanted to escape the fate that would await her…and I would end up doing irreparable damage to any reputation I had among the Ruathen.  My plan would make me a barbarian…even to the barbarians…if it worked right.  So I told her that she must calm down if she wished to live, then I explained what I meant to do.  When I finished, she looked up at me with confused eyes.

       "Why?" she asked simply.  I shook my head…it would be too hard for me to explain, and I did not have a lot of time…they would come in soon, thinking I was done, due to the silence.

       "I am sorry," was my only reply to her.  The plan began.  She began screaming again…horrible wails.  I hit myself hard, on the thigh…enough to make a noise, then broke a large piece of kindling from the fireplace in half and she abruptly stopped her screams.  I yelled and ranted loudly for a few moments, using foul terms.  A few moments later, I stepped back out of the house, my pants readjusted, her body slung over my shoulder.  

       Several of the other men came up to me, laughing.  They said they didn't think I had it in me…and for a moment, I had their acceptance…I was finally one of them…Finally…when now was the time when I did not wish to be.  Then they began to "jest" about having a "turn" on her…until they realized that the girl was no longer moving…indeed, her body was limp and lifeless.  They asked me what happened, thinking her dead, as I had anticipated.  I shrugged casually, as though it were of little importance.

       "She called me weak…I will not be called weak…ever... again.  I silenced her…in death she has learned to keep her insolent mouth shut."  And they believed me, so grim was my expression…they believed that I killed the girl over an insult.  They took steps away from me…looking at me warily, the smiles faded from their expressions.  I knew what they were thinking… that I was a berserker who had lost his focus…that I was a monster.  For among the people of Ruathym, you see, it is one thing to kill in battle…even if it is a woman…so long as they hold a weapon…it is yet another thing entirely to kill a woman in cold blood.  That is what I became to them that day…a killer of women.  They would never trust me again…if, indeed, they ever had.  

       With no further words to them, I walked away, carrying the "body" away from the village.  When we were far enough away from the others, in a wooded area where they would not see us, I set the girl back on her feet, and let her go.  Her eyes were wide with fear…she feared me still, even though I had saved her from further abuse…perhaps even from death... after all, it was not uncommon for a woman to die "accidentally" after being forced too many times.  

       Again, in that moment, I felt terrible self-loathing, and turned away from those damning eyes.  She stood there for a few minutes, staring at me.

       "Why? You're not even one of them?"  She demanded.  

"I am now," I replied sadly.

"But you're an elf!" She almost shouted at me.  It would have been better if she cursed me, than to remind me what I was losing by continuing with this way of life.  I did not answer her…could not meet her eyes.

"Why save me after you…you…" She seemed unable to finish the sentence.  I could not explain things to her…especially not while she was still in danger…and at the time, I wasn't even sure of the answer to that myself.  

       "If you value your life, wench, run now…run and do not look back," I told her quietly, my voice grim.

       She did.  I did not even learn what her name was.

       I went back to the village, and the voices of the other men silenced around me.  They finally feared me…but at such a price.  

       After that, they did not bother me.  They avoided me as best they could for the rest of the raiding.  No one spoke to me.  As I said, even among the Ruathen, what I "did" was not an accepted thing.  When I returned home, I spoke with my parents of what happened.  I told them the truth of the matter, for I could not bear to have them believe the rumors that were already spreading through the village.  I had a new name, you see...they began to call me "Airk Woman-slayer."  My father did not seem to understand why I had done what I'd done…why I felt so bad about raping the girl.  I think my mother understood better, but she held her counsel.  At my insistence, they agreed not to reveal the true story.  I would accept the name as penance for what I had done…even if I was not what I was being accused of.

       Eirik returned to these names and tales.  He sought me out eventually, and asked me in grave tones if what the people were saying was true.  He is my friend…my only friend…I could not lie to him, any more than I could have to my parents.  I think he understood better than my parents what I was feeling…my best friend that he is.  He knows my heart, and that I had caused more damage to my soul…, which was already growing confused… with my actions.  He vowed to keep my secret, though it bothered him that I was now even more alienated from the others than before.   

       Her face haunts my nights…even my reverie.  I cannot forget…I will not forgive.  Am I now a barbarian for good?  Is all that was good and elvish in me gone?  I begin to think so.

Sometimes it feels as though I becoming two separate people…one that clings to the elven side of myself, and another that embraces the way of the humans.

The time is coming; I think when I must soon leave Ruathym.  Opportunity has come many times, but I have not taken it.  I cannot leave my parents yet…and I fear leaving Ruathym, as well.  Where will I go?  What would I do?  Most importantly …if it was the magic of Ruathym that sustained me…would I become, once again, the sickly thing I was?  As much as I fear what I have become…I think I fear worse the idea that I would be Keledrial again. If only you could still hear me, my Lord Corellon…if only you could guide me…but here Tempus holds sway…and he is not truly my god.  I must decide alone.

                                         Airk/Keledrial 

                                                       Mirtul 10, 1370

The time has finally come.  My parents are dead.  The truth is, that my father, Brander, died some 3 months ago.  He had been out in a fishing boat with a few others when an unexpected storm swept up suddenly from the east.  The boat went down…we did not even find the bodies.  After that, my mother, Ingrid grew ill.  She did not fight the illness, though… she lost her strength…her body grew thin.  I think she wanted to be with her Brander again.  She died in her sleep last week, though I did my best to keep her alive.  She told me, before she died, not to be afraid; that she had loved me as deeply as though I had been the son of her body…that I was the son of her heart… that she was proud of me…and that I must forgive myself and move on.  She said that this was the end she wanted…that she loved my father so much that if death be the only way to rejoin him, so be it.  Then she died, her eyes closed for the last time, while I sat beside her.  

I did not think to feel the grief I did.  All this time, I have tried to keep my emotions in check…but now that they are both gone, I find that I loved them…and I do not think I ever told them that.  They had saved my life…good people that they were.  I am strong today because they were strong then.  

I have watched them, these many years; grow old and frail…all the while I remained much the same as I am.  Elves do not age like humans…I stayed young while they grew old.  I will still be young, when their ashes are no more, and generations of Ruathen after them have lived and died.  

It has been 42 years since the shipwreck.  Ironic…I lived 42 years with the elves, and 42 with the Ruathen.  My friend Eirik is old now, too.  He is wed…a father now, many times over.  His oldest child has already had a child as well.  I watched them grow…and I stayed the same.  It makes me weary.  Eirik looks at me now with incredulousness.  He claims he knew that this was the way of things, but seeing the years fly by and never touching me…I do not think he was prepared for the reality of it all.  Yet he has stood by me, these many years, the staunchest friend.  

The others in the village grow more fearful of me, though.  Most know little of the elven people.  I hear the whispers.  They call me unnatural.  They begin to fear I am sort of sorcerer…that perhaps I bewitched the Windreivers…even that I called the storm to kill my father…that I stole the breath from my mother to keep myself young.  I can hardly believe that, until this moment, I did know realize how much I despise the ignorance of humans.  They do not care that I loved my parents dearly…that I even now grieve for their deaths.  I know now that I cannot stay here.  It will only be a matter of time before they decide to act on their suspicions.  If I stay, they will kill me…be it by accident, or design.  Eirik will not be able to protect me forever.  I would not prevail against so many…and even Eirik would be forced to allow my "execution" if proof of sorcery was brought against me, friend or no.  Proof is easily fabricated.  

I have made a choice, though it is a hard one.  The raids will begin in a week's time.  I think they will let me go again with them…if only out of the hope that this time I will not come back.  I will give them their wish.  I have gathered all that I can from the things left me by my parents.  There is gold and a few goods left, along with the last set of clothing my mother sewed for me before she died.  I packed it all, leaving my parents home nearly bare.  My father's axe I took to the water, and cast it into the sea.  We could not bury it with him, but perhaps, if Deep Sashelas can hear me, the weapon will find it's way to my father's hands that he might carry it with him in the afterlife.    I would sell the forge, but it might make the people here suspicious, and I must remain inconspicuous until I can leave.

I have spoken with Eirik about my decision.  He is unhappy, in that he will be losing a friend, but he too, agrees that this is the best way for me.  The raids, he told me, will be taking place in the Moonshae islands this year.  He told me to slip away during a raid and to make my way inland…to find a road, and go to a city there, called Caer Callidyr.  It is the great city of the islands, and there will be ships there to take me to the mainlands, or wherever else I might wish to go that ships go to.  He said not to worry about the people, that if any try to bother me that I was to claim to be a northlander.  The northlander people of the Moonshaes are, apparently, the descendents of Ruathen who settled the northern islands long ago…and recently, a truce was made between the dark ffolk of the southern islands and the northlanders.  Eirik bid me luck and Tempus' blessing, and embraced me like a brother.  I named him Sha Tel'Quessir… elf friend…though I did not explain the significance of the term, nor did I mention that I am not certain I have the right any more to bestow such a title.  But he was my dearest friend…and I am…I hope…still an elf.

Sometimes lately, things seem strange to me.  Sometimes it seems that the part of me that is Airk is completely separate now from the part that is Keledrial.  Sometimes it is almost like I can hear my voice as Keledrial, in my mind whispering things to the part of me that is Airk, and the reverse as well.  I begin to feel like I am two people, and not one…and it is beginning to frighten me. Elves are not meant to live among humans…now I know why…they force all their living into their short years…an elf stretches that living out…but among humans, I must act as they do…I am growing tired of it all.  The dual thoughts and way and lives confuse me…I fear that I am growing mad, as elves are rumored to become, when kept too long among the short-lived races.  I think that it is a good thing I will be leaving soon…that it is not a moment too soon.  I will take my axe and my bow, and my things…I will go to Caer Callidyr.  From there I do not know, but it cannot be worse than what will befall me if I should stay here.  May Corellon guide me once more.

                                  Airk / Keledrial

Eleint 27, 1370

I have arrived at Caer Callidyr, on the largest island of the Moonshaes, Alaron.  It was not difficult for me to slip away during the confusion of the raid.  I some how doubt that those with me searched very long to find my "body."  It matters little to me, though.  I was on my way, to whatever fate the gods had for me.  I walked through the countryside of the island, going further inland.  It was the farthest from the sea I have been in a long time.  Strange how silent everything seems when you are used to the sounds of the waves, crashing eternally against the beach.  

The inner land here is green and misty.  The ground was boggy in some places, and fields in other.  Small stands of trees became more numerous the farther from the water I got.  Finally I came upon a large trade road.  I followed it southward until I saw, rising before me, a huge wall.  As I got closer I saw that the city of Caer Callidyr was enclosed by a large wall…to protect it, I suppose.  The gates of the city on the road, however, were open, with two sets of guards standing on either side.  Travelers, folk with wagons, and merchants were all admitted into the city with only cursory checks through their goods.  I approached cautiously.  Until that point I had managed fairly well to avoid contact with the Moonshaen folk.  Now I had no choice.  I was very conscious of my appearance.  I can imagine how strange I must have seemed to the people there: a strange, pale-skinned, blue haired elf…6 and a half feet in height, and broad as a human.  My clothing was certainly northern in style, with wolf furs and runic designs abounding.  My hairstyle was also that of the northlander…that of the Ruathen…my skin was inked, arms bared…a huge axe strapped across my back.  I wonder now that they let me in, but perhaps it was because they were all too busy staring, with mouths open wide as dying fish, to summon the words to detain me.

Caer Callidyr is large…not as large as Leuthilspar, mind you, but large all the same.  It was far grander than anything I'd seen on Ruathym.  The houses here are all tightly together, made of wood and stone.  Neat little houses, with clean straight lines, unlike the crude homes to be found in the villages of Ruathym. The wall surrounded the city on the landside…the ocean protecting the port side.  The city was dark though…and confining.  I felt cramped and uncomfortable in this place.  I was far more used to the open, wide spaces of Ruathym and Evermeet.  The main street was fairly clean, but the further from there I got, there seemed to be more refuse about.  The people that walked the city were humans…but so many kinds of humans!  There were the dark, ffolk of the Moonshaes, and the dark-haired northlanders who looked so very much like the Ruathen.  And there were others…they must have been visitors from the mainland…I saw people with dusky skin, people with skin as fair as my own and pale yellow hair, people who spoke with strange accents, who wore rich and unusual clothing, and even, once, a girl who ran past me, towards the docks, with a long braid of hair that was a red as fresh blood.

Needless to say, I felt out of place, and received a great many stares.  People seemed to even pause in their business to gape.  I wish I had worn a cloak…or hood…something to disguise me.  And I wondered…what if someone recognized me?  I had raided on the Moonshaes before…and while I am not attractive, neither am I forgettable, I think.  What if I came across some one who knows me for what I was?  I knew that I could not allow my stay in Caer Callidyr to be a long one, for that reason, if nothing else.

I got a room at a small inn…out of the way, and close to the wall of the city.  There were not many customers, I gathered, and the owner was glad enough of my business that he did not ask me any questions, but answered my own as best he could.

I went down to the docks that very to find out where I might go from here.  Nearly everyone I spoke said that if there was someplace I wanted to go, or some thing I needed to find, that Waterdeep was the place for me.  Unfortunately, when I went to inquire about the price of passage to this Waterdeep, I discovered something quite unfortunate…I had been robbed.  My purse of gold, which I had foolishly worn on my belt, was gone.  As I thought back, I vaguely recalled that the girl with red haired had bumped into me…when everyone else had gone out of their way to avoid me.  I imagine that the girl was a thief…and I suppose that it is justice…I am a raider…and the money I made from such a profession had been stolen by a pickpocket.  It almost amused me…except that it meant I was stuck in this city, with hardly a coin to my name.  With reluctance, I departed from the docks, and the ships that might have taken me where I wished to go.  The captain of the one ship I talked to said that he would be back in three or four months…a final trade run, before the winter storms hit.  He said that if I had the coin, he would take me on as a passenger on the way back to Waterdeep, where he would put in port for the winter.

So, I had to find a way to make some money.  It turned out to be an easy enough task.  My father had taught me well at the forge…I knew how to work metals into armor, weapons, and even horseshoes and nails, were they called for.  As an added bonus, father showed me the basics of how to work leather, as well…with these qualifications…along with the potential draw of my unusual appearance…I convinced the owner of one of the smithies in town to hire me on as an assistant.  It was not a bad job, and I found that honest work was far more fulfilling to me than raiding.  I worked hard, and I worked long.  I think that I have impressed my employer…a heavyset, bearded man named Morgan, with my diligence.  I did not make much money a day, but enough so that I could pay to stay at the inn, and save a small sum each week, as well.  I had two nights off a week, and worked from sunup to past sundown, the rest of the days.  It kept me strong.  

On one of those nights off, a new traveler came to the inn I was staying at.  He was a small fellow, with tanned skin, and rusty brown hair…he was staying for a while, I soon learned…but not the reason why.  He saw me immediately, for even in the darkened tavern, I stand out.  He wasted no time in coming up to me, and sitting down at my table.  He greeted me warmly, and introduced himself as Loren.

"I would not have thought to see one of the Teu-Tel'Quessir, here," he mentioned to me, in a casual tone.  I sat up straight at the use of the elven word for the moon elves…my people.

"Why is that?" I asked him.  

"Well, it's just that your folk tend to stick more to the mainlands…I'm sorry if I offended you…I was just curious that's all."

"Where on the mainlands have you seen my people?" I asked, desperate, suddenly, for a hint of where I might go.

"Oh, here and there…the silver elves tend not to stay in one place for very long…but you know that.  Now the wood elves… that's a different tale…Perhaps you'd like to hear of how I met them?" he asked, with air of man who meant to continue his tale no matter my response.  I nodded, though, for any word of the people was welcome to me after so long.

He spun me a tale of how he had been wandering around down in the woods of a place called Tethyr, when he'd suddenly heard a scream coming from the woods not far from him.  He told me he rushed to see what was happening, only to find a small elven girl beset by a group of orcs. He then relayed that he could not allow such foul creatures to harm the child, and dashed in, swords raised.  After he slew the beasts, he moved to help the girl, when he felt spear pointed into his back…the girl's kin had arrived.  Well, apparently, in thanks for saving the child, the wood elves invited Loren back to their village.  He stayed with them for a time, studying their ways, learning the language.  He was particularly fond of watching one elf that danced with blades.  

I, myself, can remember the sword dancers from Evermeet, though vaguely.  Now, shortly after, when I learned that Loren had learnt the skills to dance as the elves did, merely by watching them, I convinced him to teach me as well.  I gave him some of my hard earned coin to receive such training…but it is well worth it.  By learning a dance of my people…especially so dangerous a dance, with the edge of the blades only a hair's breadth from my skin…it made me feel more…elven, some how.  As with everything else in my life, I proved a quick study, and within a few short weeks, I had learned all that Loren had to teach.  Eventually he left, having concluded whatever business he had had here.  Yet I continued practicing…every night off that I had.  It was something to do…and it was something that gladdened my heart.  Perhaps there was yet a chance for me…if I could still feel joy in a dance, perhaps I was not as far gone as I feared.

I have hope again.  I will find my people…and I will go home someday…but I am not certain that I will return to Evermeet straightaway, even if I learn the way the very day I arrive in Waterdeep.

I have been thinking much on what Loren said about rescuing the elven girl from orcs.  There are were few dangers as such on Ruathym…we being an island of warriors…but according to Loren, monsters and foul creatures as such, abound on the mainlands…constantly plaguing the people of the sword coast… monsters and others as well…evil humans who follow dark gods…even the hated drow.  I began to wonder if I might redeem myself in the eyes of Corellon…and even Tempus.  Raiding is not honorable battle…no matter what I have let myself believe to assuage my conscience.  If there is so much trouble on the mainlands, I wonder if I might use my strength and skill of arms to help the folk who live there?  I spoke once with Loren about such, before he left…he grinned and said that there is good coin in "adventuring," so long as you do not mind the risks.  I asked him where I might learn more of this "profession," and he replied that when I went to Waterdeep, I would find that there is an adventurer's guild there…and I should speak with them.  Perhaps I will do just that.  Perhaps if I do what I can to help people, the likes of which I have harmed these long years, perhaps I will redeem myself to my god…and perhaps I will someday find the strength to forgive myself for what I have done to survive.  

Strange…the part of me which is Airk likes the idea of adventure…for it will test his skills…and the part of me that is Keledrial agrees also...for it is a right and good thing to do.  It is rare that I find my two selves agree…Sometimes they seem so separate…it is almost as if I am two different beings…I wonder if, after all these years, I have gone mad?  I pray not. 

It is now only a few more weeks until the ship returns…I have saved nearly enough.  In a short time I shall arrive in Waterdeep…there to find my fate…and my future.

              Keledrial Nightstar/Airk Windreiver 

                                                       Ches 7, 1371

I am here now, in Waterdeep.  I have never seen such a place.  When I walked up from the docks, I found myself nearly overwhelmed.  The size of this place is immense.  The buildings are tall and short and wide and come in every shape…made of all different sorts of materials.  The streets are a veritable labyrinth…I think it would take many, many years of doing nothing but exploring this city, for me to truly understand the vastness of it.  I think perhaps that it is even larger than Leuthilspar…and very grand…but still, I do not feel comfortable here.  There are too many people…too much noise.  I live not far from the water, yet the sounds here are so great that I cannot hear the waves at night.  I found a place, not far from the docks to work.  It is another blacksmith shop, also owned by a human.  He is a native of this city, and grew up in the smithy.  He is fair enough at his trade, Stefan, is…yet still…human work pales in comparison to the things that the elves can produce.  Yet, for now, it is a living.  Fortunately, Stefan has a back room, and had allowed me to stay there for a small sum.  This way I am able to save up some money again.  Winter has come early to the city this year, they say, and it is a harsh one.  I have spent many mornings shoveling snow from the doors and off the roof of the building.  The cold does not bother me so much as it does Stefan, and I am happy to be outside, rather than cooped up all day in the store.  The Ruathen were always amazed at my tolerance to the cold as well, come to think of it.  They would shiver greatly after swimming in water, whose temperature I found comfortable.  It was one of the few things I was able to "beat" the others in…though I never told them that my people have a greater tolerance to extreme climates than humans do.

       The snow, however, keeps many people indoors, and though I am told many folk of other races…even elves live in this city, I have yet to meet anyone besides humans.  I am even told that there is an elven temple here somewhere…but I have been unable to find it as of yet.  Perhaps I shall have better luck, come the spring.  I have also located the adventurer's guild that Loren once spoke of, but so far, have not had the time, nor opportunity to visit it.  Stefan keeps me very busy at the forge, and with the snow…so for now I shall keep to my work.  Perhaps, when the spring comes I will have more time…and if I do not, I shall make time, for I certainly do not intend to spend the rest of my days working in some human's store, after all.              

       Since parchment is easier to get here…though expensive, perhaps I shall make another entry again, sooner than I usually do.  Until then,                                   Keledrial / Airk 

Mirtul13, 1371

       Spring, such as it is, has finally come.  The snow is mostly gone, though the air is still chill.  I finally found my way to this adventurer's guild, about a week ago. The people there welcomed me…and at the sight of myself, and my axe…well, they offered me a trial membership at this guild…free of charge.  By having such, I gathered that I would have access to their guildhall…that I could meet other adventurers there, get discounts on goods, and learn of people seeking to hire adventurers.  I put up a message there, on the corkboard, with others, stating that I wished to join with a group…that I wished employment in this field.  After so many months trapped in that cramped smithy…I feel in desperate need to see the forest, to be outside in the open air more.  But seeing as I can only write in elven…and I have seen no elves since coming here…there has been no answer to my notice.  

So this day, this morning, Stefan gave me the day off…business was slow.  I went down to the guild house, out of idleness. I suppose I might have tried once again to seek out the elven temple I have heard is in this city…but the idea of walking the maze of streets only to meet with failure again did not appeal to me.

       To my surprise, I found that a new note had been posted…several in fact…looking for adventurers.  There were folk milling around, straining to read the notices…I stood above them all, peering down…but I could not read the language…it was written in a human dialect.  I suppose that I shall soon have to become literate in these languages…seeing as how there is very little written in elven here, I must find my way from place to place, judging by the pictures and symbols on the signs.

       On of the people, a human in armor with short cropped black hair and brown eyes, said,

       "Well boys, what do you think?  Shall we try it?"   Before any of his acquaintances could answer, I tapped him lightly on the shoulder.  In Airk's usual slow, monotone, I asked him,

       "Can you read this notice aloud, human?"  He looked up at me.

       "It says that the Rising Sun trading coaster is looking for a bit of help.  Apparently goblins have been attacking their caravans."

       It took me a moment or two to notice the other elf…seeing as he was standing behind the human.  I managed to conceal my shock…my joy, at finally seeing another one of my people again.  Like myself, he is a moon elf…though far, far shorter and slighter than I.  His hair was a pale green, and his eyes a like color, which made me suspect that there was, perhaps, a sea elf in his heritage.  Still, his skin was the same silvery hue as my own, his ears just as pointed…another elf…it had been so very long.  He had a lute strapped across his back, that led me to believe…rightly so, that he was some sort of bard or musician.

       "I think that Calvin here is right," my fellow elf stated with a grin. "Perhaps we might join together and go and do this.  A fine start, yes?"  I did not know if he was speaking to me, or the others standing about…which, I belatedly noticed, were two very, very short people, with beards.  I thought back to my books, mentally going through entries, until I came up with the proper title for the description of this kind of creature.

       Dwarves.  Short, stocky humanoids.  Mainly subterranean.  Highly greedy.  Warrior and work oriented race.  Highly deficient of magic. 

       I muttered the description under my breath, softly…but one of the two dwarves heard.

       "Who's greedy?" the black-bearded one demanded.

       "Dwarves are," I replied simply, deliberately, as though I were speaking to a small child.

       "Hmph…" the dwarf crossed his arms, seeming irritated.  My attention was drawn from the little one, by the human beside me.

       "What say you?" he asked me.  "You seem a warrior.  Will you adventure with us?"  By us, I assumed that he meant the elf and the two dwarves.  I nodded.

       "I shall."  If not for the adventure, then for the chance to speak with the other elf…to seek answers that he might, perhaps, have.

       I did not realize until the introductions began, that none of them had known each other, either.  Like myself, they had each been given a trial membership to this guild, and were seeking their first adventure, and a group to travel with.

       The human is Calvin McRoss, a paladin…which is a holy warrior in the service of his god, Tyr. I do not know of what bent this "Tyr" is, but Calvin seems of an honorable bent, and a competent fighter as well.

       My fellow elf claimed his name to be Tobias…a taken name for certain.  Perhaps he does not wish any to know his true name, though.  I will speak with him alone, at the earliest chance, and reveal who I am.  Perhaps then he will tell me his true name.

       The one dwarf, with the black beard proved to be quite…interesting.  When we got outside, paper in hand, the dwarf revealed that he had wings.  I searched my memories, but not in any book I have ever read is there reference to any dwarves having wings, though there are ancient fables of winged elves.  When asked about this strange occurrence, the dwarf, a priest of some dwarven god with silver in his name, mutter something about potions.  A strange fellow…his name is Ranon Thadeus.

       The other dwarf seemed rather unusual as well…mostly it was his hair and beard that drew the eye…for instead of hair, he had thick, green moss growing on his head and chin.  I did not ask why, though I confess to a certain degree of curiosity.  He is Hank Granitebeard, and is, apparently a druid of sorts.  I did not think that subterranean folk could be druids, but it appears that I am wrong about a good many things.

       So we went to this Rising Sun trading coaster, which was over in the South ward of the city.  There I met yet another non-human being.  This one looked very human at first, but was tiny…far smaller than the dwarves.  I hardly think the top of his head would have reached my waist.  After a bit of thinking, I recalled the definition of halfling and decided that this small creature fit it well…though he was not at all amused when I muttered something about halflings being similar to gnomes…   Although their entries in my book had been right next to each other…

       We spoke with an older gentleman…the owner of the coaster perhaps?  Calvin and Tobias did much of the talking.  I noticed that Tobias did not have much of an accent and spoke far faster than I do.  Perhaps he is better acquainted with humans than I…although he hardly seems to be more than a few decades older than I…or perhaps the humans here better understand accented speech than the Ruathym did.  Either way, it is something to think on.

       Basically, the man we spoke with gave us directions to the road and area where his caravans were being attacked…and told us that his was the only group of caravans that were being attacked.  Tobias mentioned that perhaps it might be the work of a rival company…to which the man replied that that was one of the reasons we had been hired.  He also mentioned that one of the things that had been stolen had been some package bound for a church of Mystra, and that the church would probably pay a reward for its recovery.

       We decided to wait a night, and leave for this place tomorrow, so I shall tell more of what happens when…and if, I return from this "adventure."

       I have returned from the adventure, relatively unscathed.  We arrived too late to save yet another caravan from being attacked, but as I searched for tracks of the…raiders, a black fletched arrow shot from the nearby hills and trees, to land near me.  I picked the arrow up and saw the crudeness of its make, and thought that goblins, being an uncivilized race might indeed have made such.  I ran into the woods, searching out the one who'd shot at me, only to see movement, far up into the hills, as my enemy escaped me.  Determined, I traced it upwards, dimly noting the sounds from behind me, signifying that the others were following me.

       The goblin tried a trap on us, when it realized that it was being followed.  The trap was that of a large boulder released from somewhere further up the trail.  I jumped down the side of the hill, holding onto the side as the boulder rolled past.  Others did likewise…Ranon took flight…and Calvin was forced to outrun the rock around a curve to save his horse, which he was foolishly leading up the path.  Fortunately, no one was harmed.

       We drew closer to the goblin's lair, I knew, when arrows came down at us from around a curve in the path.  I shot one with my own bow…spoils from a long ago raid.  The Ruathym thought me cowardly for using such a weapon…but thought it useful enough when trying to find land through deep fog.  I use it because it was the one weapon whose use I was trained in, on Evermeet.  After all, a short bow has a weak pull, and there were few enough ways that I could hurt myself wielding one.

       Finally, I wearied of waiting, and charged up the path, dodging the few arrows that came my way.  I dispatched both creatures, allowing the other to proceed.

       The goblins were not so hard.  We went into the cave with them, and they each went down with one blow of my axe.  It was the numbers that they came at us with that hurt the most.  Though the wounds they dealt us were slight…even slight wounds could become dangerous when they become numerous.

       We lost whatever surprise we might have had when Tobias foolishly shouted something to the goblins.    

       When it seemed we would be overwhelmed, I felt a familiar haze settle over me.  A roar of "Tempus," was torn from me, and I fell into a berserk rage.  When the rage dimmed, I found myself doing battle with the leader of these creatures…a bugbear.  He was stronger and fiercer than the others, and my body ached from the wounds he had dealt me.  Still, my greater skill prevailed, and he fell upon my axe, as had his goblin underlings.  Wearied from my rage, I nonetheless took the time to find what treasure I could…strangely enough, there was only one box…and no sign of any stolen trade goods.

       I chopped at the lock of the box until it cracked open.  Within there were several things…including a note, which the others claimed was proof that the creatures had been hired by another trading coaster…a rival to the Rising Sun one.  There was also a blank book that no one seemed to want, so I took it.  It has many pages in it, and perhaps I shall use it to keep track of my travels.

       We also found a bit of coin, which was split evenly. The weapons of the creatures that I had not inadvertently destroyed we sold to people back in Waterdeep.  I kept for myself the greatsword that the bugbear had been wielding.  The only source of contention amongst us was over a ring we found in a smaller box within the larger one.  I sensed the magic of it, even without being able to cast any spells…but then, I always have been that in touch with magic.

       Tobias immediately "claimed" it, though out of all of us who had fought, he had done the least…to the point that, when he thought we might lose the battle, he ran out to the front cave to escape.  I cannot stomach cowardice.

       He snatched the ring out of my hand even as I was studying it…though I could not guess as to what the enchantment on it might be.  Now, among the Ruathen, the division of goods is always fair, with equal shares to all that went.  I knew that the ring, being magical, was most likely worth more than everything else we had found, combined.  So, I grabbed Tobias by the wrist, and told him that we would find out what the ring was, sell it and split the profits.  The strange thing is, that had he assuaged my curiosity as to what the ring was…I wouldn't have cared…I probably would have just let him have it.  But he did not.  He whined and wheedled stating that he wanted it, and would give up his share of whatever profit we made to keep it.  I laughed…whatever his share was, it would not be worth the price of the ring…but the others seemed to think such an agreement was fair, so I went along as well.  Tobias would do well to learn quickly that my curiosity has a high price.

       Before I released my fellow elf, I growled at him, in elven.

       "Elf or not, next time we go into battle, learn to keep your mouth shut, that we not unnecessarily alert our enemies," I released him by way of throwing his arm away from me.  Tobias' eyes widened at this speech of mine, for as Keledrial, I speak far better than Airk's monotone and deliberate wording.

       Wearied beyond ability to keep my feet, I sat down on the smelly chair that the bugbear had been sitting on, and instantly went into reverie.

       I awoke some hours later to find that the others were all sleeping.  Fools…what if more creatures had come on us unaware?   My gaze strayed to Tobias, and I thought, here was my chance, while the others slept.  I stalked over to him, and covered his mouth with my hand, as I shook him awake.  His eyes opened, wide with startled surprise.  The fear faded out of them, though, when he saw that it was only myself.

       "What?" He asked.

       "Sshh," I quieted him.  "There is something I must ask you, and could not do so in front of the others."  He sat up, looking curious.

       "I am Keledrial Nightstar…"  I waited for him to reciprocate with his true name as well…but he did not, obviously he did not understand politeness, or the ways of the court.  I was mildly irritated, but hid it.  

       "That name seems familiar…" he mused aloud.  "What are you, some sort of lost heir to the throne?"

       "Of course not!" I hissed, almost amused at his ignorance. Definitely not from Evermeet.  "I am no Moonflower…yet I am of a noble family…or once was," I amended.  

       "What do you want then?  To go reclaim your fortune, or something?"  I was growing more annoyed by his idiocy.

       "No…merely to go home.  That is why I need to know…do you know the way to Evermeet?"  He laughed.

       "Evermeet?  No…can't say as I've ever been there.  I've heard of it of course, but the way?  No…don't know that."  I bit my lip in frustration.  Then thought of one more thing.

       "Evereska then?  Where is Evereska?" He seemed to think for a moment…then got up and dug out a map that we'd found in the trunk.  I had thrown it aside earlier when I did not find Evermeet on it.  He looked at it now, until his finger came to a group of hills far, far to the east of Waterdeep.

       "Here it is.  Why do you want to go there?" he asked.  I looked at the map for a while, pondering the distance I would have to travel.  Such a distance would require coin…lots of it…supplies…a mount…and others with which to travel, if the stories I'd heard of monsters on the mainland were true.  I would not just be able to walk there on my own.  I did not answer Tobias, merely murmured my thanks and went to sit back down on the chair.  I kept watch the rest of the time.

       We go to leave again.  This time our quarry is a pack of marauding beasts called gibberlings.  The creatures were apparently raiding and killing at the farmsteads north of Waterdeep.  A young, human, wizard has hired us for our strength of arms.  We leave shortly, but I thought to write a bit more before I leave.  It has been several days since we dealt with the goblins.  On our return, we delivered the note we'd found to the old human who'd hired us.  He immediately took the note to the city guard.  We tagged along, out of a need to see this done…or in my case, curiosity.  The guard went to the rival coaster, and searched the place.  They found the stolen goods in the basement of the building, and then arrested the culprits.  While we were helping sort through things, I came upon a package that drew my attention.  I picked it up, and could feel magic within…strong magic.  The man who hired us stated that it was the package bound for Mystra…whom I have learned is a human goddess of magic.  He asked us if we would take the package over to the church.  Having nothing better to do, I agreed.  One of the dwarves…Ranon, I believe, tagged along, for what reason I do not know.  The others went off to do other business.  The people at this church gratefully accepted the package.  And while I was there, I thought of a question that I hardly summoned the courage to ask.  I asked them where I might find a place to purchase a spellbook written in elven.  Their reply was to go to the tower at the adventurer's guild.  Thanking the humans, I set off.

       There was a loud explosion when I reached the tower, and smoke and cursing cam out of one window.  Undaunted, I went in.  I explained my request to a young man sitting behind a desk there.  He stared at me blankly for a few moments, as though my request for a spell book had been spoken in some incomprehensible language.  I suppose he was shocked…after all, no wizard I have ever heard tell of carried a great axe strapped across his back…but who knows…when it comes right down to it, I have not heard of very much…and this is a very big world, after all.

       I was taken upstairs to another room…thankfully not filled with smoke.  This room had an older man in it, with graying, black hair and a neatly trimmed mustache.  Personally, as much as it made me an outcast, I am glad that no such hair grows on my face.

       The man looked up after the younger human whispered in his ear.  For a moment, he too was shocked…but recovered far faster.  It was beginning to annoy me.  After all, I am an elf…and are the people not known for skill of magic as well as skill of arms?!

       I ended up having to repeat my request.  In response, the wizard pulled a book down from a wall that was covered with tomes.  He opened to a page, handed me the book, and told me to read what I could.

       It was a spell, of course…and written in elven as I had asked.  I began to read the words aloud, not taking any pain from doing so.  That, I think was what he was looking for…for you see, those without the skill or the knowledge cannot read magic without taking hurt from it.  Naturally, I have no such problem.      

  They stopped me from finishing the spell, and had me look at yet another one.  Only when I has assured them that I had the capability to understand, read, and cast such magic did the wizard agree to sell me what I had asked for.  The price he gave me was more than fair, considering the number of spells that were in the book.  I suppose he thought I was some poor wizard who'd lost my spellbook through some misfortune, and took pity on me.  He would not have been far from wrong in that assessment, though.

I bought the book…which I suspected might have belonged to another wizard at one point.  The spells were all scribed in a fine, neat hand…but there were no spells of any power above minor levels in it.  A faint scarring of the leather, and a singed corner on the book brought to mind a fatal end to the book's previous owner.  I hoped that I would have better luck.  At first chance, I penned my own names into the book, and began studying it with a fervor that 42 years of deprivation had caused.  

I went back to work at the forge…Stefan was glad to have me there…but after the gold I had made on the one adventure…far more than the few silvers I earned at the forge…the labor hardly appealed to me as much.  Stefan was very angry at the mess I made while working the first day.  My mind was focused on that book, though, and the part of me that is Keledrial was far more dominant at the time.  As Keledrial, though, I have little enough care for the crude work we do at the forge.

Needless to say, I let the part of me that is Airk work during the days, while I studied by night.

Then, today, I went down to the guild house and met with the others.  A new message had been posted…this "gibberling" affair.  We met with the wizard several hours ago, and have agreed to accompany him.  The others all ran off to get supplies.  There is nothing that I need for so short a journey…only a few days from Waterdeep.  So I sit here and write to occupy myself.  

They approach now…I will go to my work…dispatching these "raiders."  I pray that the others do not discover that I was once such being…albeit I raided in the human fashion…which I suspect is not all that different from the monstrous way.  I do not think that such as Calvin would forgive me for my past…he is far too…honorable.  I hoped that in coming here I could begin to put that part of my life behind me…but with each time I fly into a deadly rage, I shall know that Airk is still there.  Each time I call out, instinctively to Tempus, I know that there is still "humanness" about me.  Until I remove that taint, I cannot feel that I am anything but a barbarian.

So we have returned from the gibberlings.  The part of me that is Airk was quite upset that the creatures did not offer a better challenge.  The wizard…I think his name was Teravan, made the creatures out to be far more dangerous.  I saw for myself the carnage they caused to the raided farmsteads we passed… murdered bodies lying half eaten in their destroyed houses.  To me it was stomach churning, yet to Airk, it is simply death…horrible, yes…but part of life.

You wonder that I refer to myself more and more as two beings…two separate beings.  Yet I fear it is what I am becoming. It seems almost that there are two voices in me.  One is the voice of Airk.  It is he who speaks most to the others, he who raises sword and axe in battle, he who revels in our strength.  Yet the part of me that now writes this, the part that sought out the wizards for the purchase of a spellbook, the part that is silent for the most part, preferring to remain still and separate…that part of me is wholly Keledrial. I too, revel in the strength of my arms and body, yet my heart yearns for magic…to be able to, once again shape the weave…to feel its power at my command.  There are times that I fear I argue with myself, the two parts that comprise me.  Airk does not like this magic, and part of me feels that unease ingrained by the Ruathym.  Yet, I, Keledrial, reel at the barbarity that we exhibit so frequently.  I begin to fear for my sanity, after so long.  Yet, I do not know what I might do about it.  Counsel with a priest seems a logical course of action, yet I cannot find an elven priest, nor the temple I have heard is rumored to exist in Waterdeep.

Anyhow, the gibberlings were indeed foul, little creatures of mindless destruction and rapacious appetite.  We followed the trail…or I should say that I did this.  You might think that the dwarven druid, Hank could have done so, yet when I approached him, he sneered at me, as though following such an "easy" trail was beneath him.  So be it.  I did what I must, listening to the whole time, as the rest of the party planned strategies.  Finally, when I heard them come up with some foolish plan involving a cliff and fire, and the herding of the beasts towards doom, I turned on them, as both Airk and Keledrial, disgusted at their foolishness.

"Perhaps we might see what the battlefield looks like before planning the strategy," I growled.  Calvin turned away from Tobias to regard me.  He nodded.

"You are right."  No more was spoken of a plan until we reached a farmstead that was, as yet, unharmed…with living people moving around outside.  The others quickly decided that this would be the next target, following the logical path of destruction.  They set about to make the place defensible, to warn the farmer and his family.  While they did thus, going on about trenches to trip the creatures, traps and fire, I continued to follow the path backwards.  I would know, if I could, how many of these creatures to expect.  Our employer warned us that the creatures would not venture from wherever they were hiding until nightfall, for they disliked light.  So we had a few hours until that time.  

I followed the path for nearly an hour when it lead straight into a dense, wooded area.  I could see easily enough that little light fell into that area.  It would be a place for the gibberlings to hide.  I did not venture further, for to do so would be my own folly.  If the creatures outnumbered me greatly, I was alone, and too far from aid should I fall.  I have no intentions of suicide, no matter what problems I face.

But, I decided to make certain that whatever plan my comrade's had concocted would succeed.  I would leave my own trail, for these gibberlings to follow…one that they would be sure to pick up on.

I pulled out a dagger, and drew the sharp edge across the back of my hand.  Blood welled up freely, and shook droplets to the ground.  I walked back to the farmstead, making certain to leave blood every few yards or so.  I wagered that such creatures would be able to smell the blood, and follow me.

I did not return all the way to the farmstead, but left the trail of blood within a hundred feet of the place.  I bound my hand, then took position in a small copse of trees, where I would have a good view of the farmstead, and anything that came towards it.  By doing so, I meant to let the gibberlings slip past me, into whatever trap the others had planned… and I did see something of trenches that they were finishing up on…then I would attack from behind, keeping the creatures penned, so that none would escape.

We did not have to wait long, for the chilling sound of the creatures reached my ears about an hour after dusk.  The sound was eerie and frightening, like many voices muttering obscenities beneath their breath.  I saw, in the distance, several of the party members grow nervous, and shifting about…but they held their ground.  

The creatures came, running past as a slavering pack.  Nearly thirty of them was my guess, they charged the farmstead mindless but for the scent of blood.

The fell easily enough into the trap, the shallow trench lined with spikes and sharpened sticks.  Some died, but the others clambered over the bodies of their fellows to get to the living people.  As soon as all of the gibberlings were over the trench, it lit up in flame…caused by some spell of the wizard's.  When I was certain that no more were coming, I drew my bow, and ran from the trees.  From my side of the trench, I drew back and let fly arrow after arrow.  It was somewhat difficult to see through the flame, but enough of my arrows struck true, that I made a significant dent into the gibberling numbers. 

I quickly saw how these gibberlings could become a dangerous problem, even though they dropped by one arrow from me…they could overwhelm.  At one point there were three on Calvin, biting and clawing at him, until they drew him to the ground.  In that manner even small, mindless, creatures such as they could take down a greater foe.

I managed to shoot one off Calvin, and he shook off the other two.  All in all, we defeated the entire horde within a matter of minutes.

The farmstead, the farmer and his family came though unscathed, and the party members only had a few wounds…myself, not even a scratch.

We returned to Waterdeep the next morning, with out incident.  The wizard paid us the promised sum, and we each returned to go back about our business. 

The night that we returned though, most of the party went to a bar to have a few friendly drinks.  Tobias bought a bottle of good wine and shared it around.  The dwarves, however, distained it in favor of good hard ale.  I had some, though, and was shocked at the flavor, for it had been so very long since I had drunk anything other than mead and water and ale, which was all there was to drink on Ruathym, unless one wanted to get into the harder liquors.  

While drinking, though, the night was suddenly pierced by a woman's shriek of pain and fear.  A moment later, I ran outside, to see what was happening.  On the street, near the tavern, we found a woman's body…a whore, or so Tobias said.  She had been murdered, quite harshly, and seemingly with terrible rage…yet when I looked closer at the wounds, I saw that they were not random hackings…but deliberate, smooth cuts.  Whoever had done this had not been mad, but calm and in control.  The wounds were perfectly placed to kill with no hope of survival.  Whoever had done this had meant to kill…and planned it out, as well.

There was a small blood trail which my eyes picked up, and I tracked it back, into a nearby alley, but there the trail ended, with no place for the killer to have gone that I could see.  Strange business.  When I went back, it was to see that the city watch had arrived and were asking questions.  They saw me, and I volunteered what little I had seen.  Two went off towards the alley, while the other took down my name and comments.  

I returned back inside, shortly after.  The dwarves, I noticed, had not left off on their drinking.  Tobias mentioned that the woman was a " whore," or a "lady of the Night."  I asked what it meant, and he laughed.  A whore is, apparently, a woman who sells sex for money.  I was shocked at that.  It never occurred to me that people would do such a thing.  As far as I had always believed sex could be given or taken…but sold?  Strange, the things I learn here.  Strange indeed.  The murder, though…it makes me wonder.  I shall, perhaps, go to the watch station in a few days and see what they have learned…if the culprit is caught.  After all, no one should kill a defenseless woman…no matter what her profession.

This time, nearly a week passed before we found yet another task to draw us away from the mundane work to be found in the city.  We pretty much meet up at the guild house a few times a week.  When we did this time, we found another post that interested us. This time it prove to be an aging human, named Hayworth who wished for us to recover a book for him.  The book, apparently was written by some woman named Morgaine Kays, a long time ago, and was one of six.  He knew that it was located in a ruined keep up in the Larch hills, north of Waterdeep.  He said that we could find it easily enough…follow the river for two days and we will see the path.  However, he warned us that there were orcs, and others things, perhaps, who lived in the keep and the area.  He stated that it would most likely be dangerous, and that we were not the first group he'd hired…that the previous group had not returned.  

It was quite what I wanted to do.  Rescuing a book from orcs was not overly heroic, or helpful to people…yet it was something to do, and the man was willing to pay us well.  And even if these orcs had not yet attacked any villages, or travels, who is to say that they won't?  Orcs, being what they are, have it in their nature to kill and destroy, and seeing as how orcs were the age old enemies of the elves…our Corellon having blinded their dark god Gruumsh, long ago…what harm could there be in ridding the world of a few more vermin.

The money was good, and we were bored…so we agreed.  Though it may be dangerous, as Hayworth warned us, I do not feel fear.  I live by the sword…I cannot fear death by it.

So we gathered supplies necessary and headed out.  Tobias wanted to take a boat, but I explained to him that it would be easier to walk rather than try to get a boat up a river.  The others agreed.  So Tobias bought himself a horse instead.  That left the two dwarves and myself walking.  I didn't mind.  I prefer to walk rather than riding a horse.  Horses are smelly, things after all…and I do not trust them, for the have little intelligence.  After all, were it not for the capriciousness of the horse that broke my leg on Evermeet, I might, even now, but still at my home…whether that is a good or bad thing, though, I cannot say.

The first day passed easily and quickly enough, but night soon fell and we were forced to camp in the hills.  I volunteered to stay up for most of the watches, seeing as I was well rested and did not need to study in the morning.  Tobias did likewise, to my surprise, and the other three each took a watch to stay up for as well.

It was shortly after the middle of the night when I heard a faint rustle in the darkness beyond the firelight.  Tobias and Hank, who were on watch with me did not seem to notice.  It came again, and as I peered into the darkness I saw a sudden glow of red…two red eyes, reflecting the fire light back at me, farther from the ground than any small, harmless animal would be.  Instantly my bow was in my hand, an arrow knocked to it, my gaze focuses on those two eyes.

"There is something here, beyond the fire," I warned my two fellows.  They peered into the shadows, but must not have very good night vision, for they saw nothing.  I insisted there was, and Tobias pulled out a stick from his bag…a sunrod, he called it…lit it, and threw it where I was watching.  It lit up another large area, but the eyes that I saw ducked back quickly to stay out of the light.

"Who is out there?" I called.  "Show yourself!"  A voice answered me in the common tongue, harsh and gravelly.

"You come here…" it demanded lowly.  I, fool that I am, laid down my bow, and drew out the great sword I had taken from the bugbear, and stalked into the area where the sunrod was.  I was overconfident, and did not think that whatever this was could be that dangerous.  I was wrong.

As soon as I got close enough, not one but, two huge wolves leapt at me.  Worgs, I thought, remembering the entry on such creatures in my books from long ago.  One bit into my leg, while the other barely missed my arm.  Knowing the danger to be great, I called out to Tempus and brought a berserk upon myself.  My vision hazed red and I hacked into the worgs with fury.

When the battle was ended, the two worgs dead t my feet, only then did I notice my wounds.  Fortunately, the little winged dwarf, Ranon is a priest, and he healed the worst of the wounds.  The others, I then noticed, were all awake, and had aided in the defeat of the worgs.  Had I been alone, I knew I would've fallen.  I would have to be more cautious…and the next time a voice beckons from the darkness I will simply shoot the space between its eyes instead.

The next day was not uneventful either.  Shortly after noon, we were attacked by a pair of griffins intent on having a meal of Calvin's and Tobias' horses.  Had we left the horses to them, probably no one would have been hurt, but that was not an option for the two who owned the beasts.  We were unable to save Tobias' horse, for it was killed by the griffins' talons.  However, we managed to take down the beast before it could fly away.  The one attacked Calvin's horse tried to escape when it saw that the battle was not going well for it, but an arrow or two from my bow sent it crashing back down to the earth, to die.

Now, Tobias seemed glad enough that he was able to recover his things from the horses' body, although upset over the loss.  I do not understand why Calvin got so upset when I took a knife to the carcass and carved out a few pieces of meat.  After all, horse is not a bad meal…and better than the dried trail rations we had been eating.  Though the others said no word of complaint, Calvin saw what I was doing, and he growled at me.

"If you eat that, then you are just as barbaric as the griffins."  I sensed his anger, but I could not understand why.  The griffins had just been trying to eat, to survive.  The only thing that was wrong with that was that it inconvenienced us.

"I eat what I will…there is no need to be wasteful," I replied.  It was true, after all…why waste perfectly good meat that the scavengers would get to anyway.  Yet, Calvin turn away from me, as though I disgusted him.  Fine then…so be it.  I took the meat anyhow, and that night, made a fine meal of it.  The others all had some as well…but for Calvin who sat away from us, condemning us.  

We found the ruined fortress the next day, following the path upwards into the hills and away from the river.  We slowed as it drew into sight when we caught sight of three guards…orcish and archers, standing near the entrance. The others were about to argue over a plan, but I gave them little enough time.  I drew out my long bow, and crept lower down the hill until I was in range.  I noticed that the dwarves followed me down, but at the moment when I was taking aim, the fool, winged one slipped and made a clattering noise on the stone that my ears cringed to hear.  Predictably, one of the three orcs looked up.  I shot him as he moved to make a noise, but aim was off, and I did not manage to kill him, or even silence him.  Throwing the bow down, and drew out my axe, and charged.  Behind me, I heard the others following suit.

The orcs were not so difficult, in that they had little enough skill.  One blow from my axe and they died, never thinking to defend themselves.  It was the numbers that they came it that became a problem.  I would fell one, only to see another two run up.  We fought out way into the ruined keep, to find a line of orcs carrying spear and axes and pikes, waiting for us.  I did not disappoint them, for I charged ahead, hardly feeling the small wounds they inflicted on me.  I felt the rage simmering within me, but I did not yet feel the need to berserk.

Finally, all of the orcs lay dead, and Tobias was complaining about how I'd ruined his clothing again, having sprayed orcish blood on him, when I'd taken the head of one of the orcs.  

We searched the ruined keep and finally I found a trap door.  Listening carefully, I heard movement from below, and assumed that there were probably more orcs below. I warned the others, and slowly opened the door.  I did not expect the two strange creatures that appeared to be what came out.  I don't know what they were, save that they were the strangest looking creatures I've ever seen, and the they howled so terrible, it caused my ears to ring.  They attacked, and were far more dangerous than the orcs.  About halfway through the fight, when I saw that things were not going so well, I finally let myself rage.  After that, we managed to finish off the howlers.  When they dropped, I ran down the stairs of the trap door, hoping for more enemies to kill.  What I found, however, was some fifteen more orcs, and a large, fairly smart looking half-orc, that immediately grabbed up weapons.  Even in my rage I realized that I was outnumbered, and remembered that the other party members were wounded.  We could not survive this attack at the moment.  So, I dropped out of my rage and did the only sensible thing I could think of…I ran.  Halfway up the stairs, I met Tobias coming down.  Without pausing, I grabbed up the smaller elf, and reached the top a moment later.  Dropping Tobias, I quickly sought out a rock large enough to block the door.  Even though I was weary with the after effects of a rage, I managed to lift the rock over my head and block the trapdoor.  It would take, even so many orcs, a bit of time to move it…time enough for us to escape.

We found a cave, higher up in the hill in which to hide.  The little dwarf Ranon, and Tobias healed us with their spells as much as they could.  Finally, I collapsed into sleep, too tired to continue to stand.

When I awoke, it was to the warning that there were orcs in the hills, as the Calvin's horse was stomping its feet nervously.  The others tried to hide within the shelter of the cave, and shoot at the orcs, but their arrows kept missing the mark.  Finally, when Tobias' bowstring snapped, I got fed up, and went out to deal with the orcs myself.  There were only three and they fell easily enough.

We confronted the other orcs a short time later, surprising them as they slept.  We waited around the edge of the trapdoor, and waited for them to come to us.  One by one they ran up, to their ultimate death.  Then, finally, the leader came out.  Ranon and Tobias, by that time were both effectively out of the battle, having been greatly wounded.  Calvin was still standing, but had taken a great many wounds as well.  The leader came out from below, and went straight for Hank, though, since the dwarf was the closest target.  He felled Hank in one hit.  I began to rage and charged to attack the leader.  I vaguely recall that Calvin moved in to flank with me.  Unfortunately, the leader was some sort of priest, and the spells he cast seemed to make him bigger and stronger.  It did not deter us, though.  In the end, he, too fell.

Sorely wounded, we finally went below, to find what we'd been sent to look for.  We found the book beneath a chair in the smelly sleeping quarters, and we found a few gems and some gold, locked away in a trunk.  That, combined with the weapons and armor that we could salvage from the orc bodies, would prove to be a decent profit, along with the payment we would be getting for returning the book.  There was also a hilt, and part of a sword, that looked as though it had been broken long ago.  On the pommel, there was a familiar symbol…that of Tempus.  I wondered why the weapon was there, and how it had been broken, as the metal it was made of looked to have been of a strong temper.  Since it was broken, though, none of the others objected, when I took it.  I tucked the hilt away in my bedroll, thinking that eventually, I might try reforging a blade for it some day…as a test of my skills, mind you.

I fell asleep again, sorely wounded from the last battle, only to be awoken by Calvin, who claimed that there was something moving up on the hill.  The "something" proved to be a wounded human, of a farming faith to a goddess called Chauntea…or so the others stated.  I carried the man back down to our camp, and let the dwarf deal with him.  The man was sick with a fever, and rambled on about something called the Zhentarim attacking a place of Golden fields.  Uninterested, fell back to my rest.

We decided to go to the place called Golden fields, the next day.  According to Calvin it was a place of good, and the priests there supplied a good portion of the grain that was necessary for Waterdeep's food consumption.  It would be a bad thing if the Zhentarim…which I learned is some evil group of people, a "black" network…took control of it.

So in the name of good, and out of our own boredom, I suppose, we headed for Goldenfields.  A day or so later, at an inn, the priest we found finally awoke.  We asked questions about the nature of the attack, but all he was able to say was the Zhentarim had gotten in and taken over, and that there were more than a score of them, before he fell unconscious once more.  We paid the innkeeper to take care of the priest and continued onward, another two days to Goldenfields.  When we arrived, it was at night, and we stopped just within sight of the tall walls surrounding the place, to concoct a plan.  Everyone offered ideas as to the best way to get in.  We had all decided, even Airk, that charging in again a score and more men, who might have hostages, was not a good idea.  With that in mind, the ultimate plan we come up with was to have the dwarves pretend to be merchants, seeing as we had all of the orcs' gear loaded up on Calvin's horse, and the rest of us pretending to be guards for the merchandise.  Our reason for going to Golden fields would be a simple one…it had started to rain, with a storm threatening, and we wished shelter.

We got in easily enough, everyone keeping their hoods up, just in case.  The guards at the gate were indeed Zhentarim, for Calvin claimed that he could sense the evil in them.  They told us that we could stay at one of the inns for the night, but to be wary, for there was a plague.  We made our way to the inn, noting the whole time that there were eyes upon us.

At the inn, the innkeeper gave us two rooms.  Ranon was acting bossy and irritating, just as a merchant would do…still, it was getting on my nerves.  After a while, an opportunity presented itself to find out more information.  Three guards came into the inn…a half-orc, a human and a woman.  The seemed to have just gotten off duty, and looked to be having a drink.  When I looked to Calvin, he nodded…they were Zhentarim.  I approached them easily, with my hood still up, and mentioned that I was a guard, and with the "boss" upstairs, would they mind if I had a drink with them.  They seemed reluctant, until I mentioned that I was buying.

It did not take long to get them drunk, drunk enough that they passed out.  Charitably, I offered to get them rooms, and carried them upstairs a moment later.  Once in a room, the others came up and we tied up the captives.  I woke the human man, using a spell to remove drunkenness.  He awoke with a start and seemed confused to his whereabouts, and why he was tied up.  At first he denied being Zhentarim, claiming he did not know what we were talking about.  A show of force, as well as a knife wound to his chest to show that we meant business proved that I meant business.  He spilled what he knew.  The Zhentarim had indeed taken control in Golden fields, for what reason, he did not know.  They were using the excuse of plague to explain disappearances, as well as the replacement of most of the guards.  There were at least 50 Zhentarim in residence.  We asked him who would know more; he nodded towards the half-orc, saying that that was his superior.  So we woke up the orc as well.  There was little else that the half-orc knew, however…or at least that he would tell, even with the threat of pain…and I must say, as Airk I am very threatening looking if I wish to be.

Knowing that we five could never manage to kill so many on our own, we decided that the best option was to go for help.  We spent several long hours hammering out a plan that seemed workable.  Finally, we decided that Ranon and Calvin would ride to Waterdeep and alert the guards there of what was happening here, try to get aid.  Calvin, mostly because he had once been a Captain in the guard, and Ranon to help control our captives.  We decided to send the three we had captured along as well, for we could not just kill, no matter how much Airk claimed it would be the easiest way, but to keep them here would risk grave discovery.  Tobias would also leave, but he would return come daybreak, "pretending" to be a bard come to play for the priests here.  As for Hank and myself, we would stay hidden with Goldenfields, and scout the place at night to gather as much information on the strengths and weaknesses of the invaders as possible.  To make it seem as though we had all left, though, I would use illusion spells to make it seem as though the captive guards looked like us.  The excuse for leaving would be that Ranon was concerned about the plague and did not wish to stay.  However, for our plan to work, we would require the assistance of the innkeeper, whom Calvin claimed was a "good" man.

We lured the innkeeper upstairs, and once he and his wife had no escape, we explained what was happening.  I noticed that there was flare of satisfaction in his eyes when he saw the bound Zhents.  He agreed to the plan, stating that he did not want to help the Zhentarim, but that they had his daughter and many other villages as hostages up in the church, and had no choice.  He even showed us a secret way out of Goldenfields that the Zhentarim did not know of.  It was, apparently, how the wounded priest had managed to escape.  That way, Tobias could leave without being seen, and there would not be one too many people leaving with Ranon and Calvin.

I spent time studying the spells I would need to cast, for I had not prepared to use illusions at all.  The plan went into effect shortly after midnight, while the storm raged outside, pouring rain, lightning and thunder to match one of the terrible storms that occasionally swept down from the north to ravage Ruathym.  

They took the Zhents horses with them, and if the guards at the gate noticed anything suspicious, they did not raise the alarm, or stop the departure.  As for Hank and myself, we spent the rest of the night, and the following day in a hidden room beneath the inn, with hardly any light.  Needless to say, after so the claustrophobia began to get me, though I must admit, Hank did nothing to make it worse, and in fact was quite silent for most of the time.

We knew it would be at least five days before Calvin and Ranon returned, so we had that much time to find the hostages, find out what the Zhents meant to do, and find the best plan of attack.

We discovered that the hostages were being kept in the basement of the church.  Tobias returned, and did his best to gather information, but people seemed reluctant to talk with him…nervous about the Zhentarim being there, no doubt.  At night, Hank and I walked Goldenfields, in the guise of Zhentarim soldiers, using more of my illusion spells, learning all we could about the patterns the guards walked, when they changed shifts, and so on.  As for the three guards that had gone missing, it seemed that everyone assumed that they had deserted.  On the second night there, all of the guards were called up to the church, for some apparent meeting.  Hank and I were told to go as well, seeing as we were thought to be guards, too…thankfully our disguises were holding up.  We all milled about, waiting, until the "leader" entered the room.  

I could not believe my eyes when I saw that it was a woman who was the "leader" of these Zhentarim…even more astonishing was the fact that she was elven…moon elven.  I stood shocked, hardly hearing her words as I wondered what could possibly be going on.  She basically stated that their task would be done, and they would be leaving Golden fields in two more days…that was one day too soon!  I knew something had to be wrong…why would an elven woman…and a beautiful one at that, be leading a group of evil humans.  She was strange looking though, with golden hair and eyes, though moon elven skin…at first I wondered if she was using an illusion spell, but quickly discounted that theory.  Then I wondered if perhaps she was under a spell, or if, like myself, she was forced into this position as a way of survival.  I knew, though, that whatever happened, I would have to try to seek her out before the end of this, and help her escape whatever control the humans had over her, if I could.

We had to find out what exactly the Zhentarim meant to do to stop them.  To that end, we decided that one of the seven wizards they had among them would probably be the most easy to capture and to intimidate into talking.  Now, earlier in the night, Hank and I had seen a strange shadow moving through town. Yet when we followed the tracks it left, they merely seemed to disappear.  It was strange to say the least, but that was the story we gave to one of the wizards to get him off alone.  When he looked down to examine the tracks, I hit him over the head with the hilt of my great sword and he easily fell unconscious.

When we woke him, he was bound and tied…especially his hands and fingers, and he was down in the basement room, where Hank and I had been hiding.  Tobias joined us, from whatever he had been about.  We managed to trick the wizard into thinking that we were indeed Zhentarim, like himself, and that he had been attacked by the "shadow." We tricked him into answering our questions under the story that the shadow may have "possessed" him, and we wanted to make certain that he was still himself.  He told us that the Zhentarim meant to steal all of the food stores and return with them to a place called Darkhold.  They meant to release all of the people, though, and not kill…which was a good thing.  Still, I got the idea, from the innkeeper, that letting the Zhentarim take so much could be a disastrous thing for Waterdeep, and so we had to try to stop such from happening.  Tobias decided that he would leave, that very night, and ride as hard as he could, and try to find Calvin and the others, to warn them of the Zhentarim's plans.  He took with him, the captured mage, which left Hank and I alone among the enemy.

Now I must admit, that Hank has impressed me with his skill at arms, willingness to go along with a plan, and intelligence.  He is not at all what I would have expected from some one of the dwarven race.  Strange, really.

We decided that we had to slow the Zhentarim down, if we could, to give the others time to arrive.  There was no way to block the gate, or stop the wagons or horses, though, as there were too many guards.  So we came up with an alternate plan.  On the last night that the Zhentarim meant to be here, we would have one of the people of Golden fields set fire to one of the fields, a field that was far enough away that other crops would not be damaged.  Hopefully the fire would draw the attention of the Zhentarim, and give Hank and I time to slip into the church and free the hostages.  The innkeeper would then hide the people away, and Hank and I would go after the leader, for with their leader in our hands, might not the Zhentarim surrender?

I did not tell Hank that when we found the leader that I meant to speak with her, try to discern why she was doing this…and free her if I could. 

The plan began.  The fire began, and, as predicted, many of the Zhentarim ran down to see what was happening.  Hank and I waited up by the church, the innkeeper hiding in the shadows.  When the last of those who were going to come out were gone, we went in, looking once again, as regular human soldiers, thanks to my spells.  

The hostages were kept in a basement room of the church, and we made our way down there.  There were three Zhentarim guarding them.  Hank and I tried to bluff them; saying that there was trouble and that they were needed outside…but they were not buying it.  When they shot each other suspicious looks I felt Airk take over, and look to Hank.  He winked at the dwarf, a preset signal to attack.  The three were caught completely by surprise when we swung our axe into them, and Hank attacked with his small sword.  They did not have a chance to cry out for help, before we felled them.  The prisoners were tied up, but we quickly cut them loose, and led them upstairs.  We waited until the few guards that were left were about other business, then sneaked out.  The innkeeper then led the people away, skulking through the shadows, back down towards the village part of Goldenfields.

Hank and I went back inside, our goal, now, the leader.  I recalled the way she had walked, and it did not take us more than a moment or two to discern which chamber was hers.  There was one guard outside, and like his brethren downstairs, he did not fall for the story we had for him, and so lost his life.  Hank and Airk attacked him so swiftly that his head was off, his body near in twain, and Airk caught his shield before it could clatter to the floor, before he even had the chance to realize that we were not what we seemed.  I cringed a bit at the barbarity, but reminded myself that the man was evil, and would have done the same, if he could have.  Still, I grow more and more worried…each battle that passes, it seems that Airk grows stronger within me, stronger and more of a separate entity…strange.

We knocked, pretending once again to be "loyal" soldiers.  The leader told us that she did not wish to be disturbed, yet we insisted.  She bade us come in.  We did so.

She was seated on a finely appointed bed, and stood as we entered.  Once again I was awestruck at her beauty…exotic, yet gorgeous, I could not credit the fact that she was leading a group of people who served darkness.  No…there had to be something wrong here… What a fool I was.

"Well, what?" she asked, sounding a bit annoyed.  At first, I thought to use the plan that Hank and I had thought up, a story to lure her towards us, so that we might capture her…yet at that moment, I could not, for the life of me, recall it.  So instead, I asked the one question that had been plaguing me since I had set eyes upon her.  In my native tongue, I asked her,

"Why are you doing this, lady?"  Her eyes narrowed momentarily, as though she were stunned and suspicious of my words.  A moment later, they widened, and she nodded, almost knowingly.  

"Perhaps you might tell me what it is that you do here?  An elf and a dwarf, that is."  I knew she had seen through my spell, and so dropped it.  Hank shot me a questioning gaze, which I ignored.  He had proved to be a good comrade, and I was beginning to develop respect for him, despite the tales I'd always been told about dwarves.  Still, this was elven business, as far as I was concerned, and he did not need to know of it.

"We have come to stop what goes on here.  Tell me lady, are you bespelled?  Or are these…humans," I nearly sneered the word, "forcing you to this path, somehow?"  She looked intrigued, and moved towards us.  Airk screamed within in me to be cautious, and reluctantly I did so.

"Do not approach lady."  She sat in a chair at a nearby table.

" Please…sit.  Let us talk like civilized beings," she waved at a chair across from herself.

"I cannot, lady…" I shook my head.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Keledrial," I replied hesitantly.

"Keledrial," she repeated, "Of any family of note?"  I opened my mouth to answer Nightstar, yet once again Airk shouted at me not to give her anymore power over us that I already had.  I shook my head instead.

"Not really…and you are?"

"Ashemi."

"Of any house of particular note?" I mimicked her.  She merely smiled, but did not answer.

"You did not answer my question, lady.  Do you do this of your own will?"  She seemed to think about it.

"I am afraid that I do this of my own choice," she replied.  I recoiled.  

"Surely you are a prsioso0ner of these humans, some how.  I was, myself, until this recent year.  Please, lady Ashemi…you must know there is a better way…I can help you," I held my hand out to her.  Hank finally spoke, then, in the common tongue.

       "What are you doing?!" he hissed.

       "I am trying to convince her to surrender to us, sir dwarf," I replied, never taking my eyes from her.  Her hands were crossed demurely in her lap, an she looked at my hand, then my face, gave me a pitying smile, and stood.

       "I am afraid that I do this freely, of my own will.  I am the leader here by my choice.  And I am afraid that this conversation must now end."  I knew she meant to attack, somehow, that she was a caster, and that we had to stop her hands and words.  Yet I was stunned by the realization that this woman…one of my own people…was evil.  Dazed, I would not have reacted, but Airk was not so surprised at the treachery of a woman…even if she was elven.  He leapt for her, but a fraction of a moment too late.  She sidestepped the attack and from the sleeve of her robes, she leveled at wand at us, and spoke a word.  I suddenly found myself unable to move, frozen by the magic in the wand.  I watched, helpless as she then used a spell of sleep on Hank, after he, too, missed his chance at attack.  In my mind, Airk was screaming at ranting at me for being a fool, but I was too stunned to care.  I had been attacked by one of my own people…she had been evil…even now, days later, I have trouble accepting this.  Guards came rushing in at Ashemi's call, and darkness took us.  I did not expect to wake again.

       Yet wake we did, some time later in a cell, in the basement of the church from whence we had rescued the villagers.  Hank was with me, and all of our possessions, save the clothes on our back, were gone.  There was only one way out…a locked door.  I did not mean to stay and be killed, or worse, used as hostages against the forces that were on their way here.  So I let Airk have his way.  The first time, my shoulder merely thudding against the door.  The second time, the door cracked, and the third blow shattered it, freeing Hank and myself.  There were three guards outside the door, with dumbfounded expressions.  Airk grabbed up a large chunk of the door, and wielding it like a club, knocked out one of the guards.  I used a spell to daze another, using a bit of wool from my tunic as the spell component. Hank clubbed the third into unconsciousness, then we both felled the dazed one.  We did not kill them, but rather, tied them up and put them into another, unbroken, cell.  Our gear, we found, was on a table nearby, so we took up our weapons once more, drew on armor.  Suddenly, there was the sound of approaching footsteps, voices.  Hank and I ducked into some shadows, and waited, only to find that it was the priests of Goldenfields, armed with farming implements and maces for weapons, apparently come to "dispatch" the Zhentarim.  They were very startled when we stepped from the shadows.  They quickly told us that the rest of the Zhentarim had gone, several hours earlier, and that these three were the only ones left, having stayed behind to guard us long enough for the rest to leave.  Angrily, I stormed from the building, Hank trailing along.  I meant to follow them, when we saw, in the distance, riders coming in through the front gate.  

       It was Calvin and the others.  They quickly caught up to us, and told us that the reinforcements from Waterdeep were riding after the Zhentarim, that Tobias had gotten the message to them in time.  They were hear to make certain that there was no one left here, that Hank and myself were still all right.  

       I certainly was not "all right." Still stunned, I retreated within in myself, and let Airk take control.  I still recall how shocked the faces of the others were when they heard Airk cursing violently under his breath about how we had been tricked and defeated, about how we had failed, and about how he meant to kill the "elven bitch."  He stalked down towards the door, but Tobias ran after and managed to convince us that it would do little enough good to go after the Zhentarim, that we were already too far behind to catch up.  Angrily, Airk acquiesced.  

       Other than the armor and weapons from the few Zhents we'd captured, the only other bit of "treasure" we found was a small trunk that had been left behind by the Zhentarim in their rush.  It contained a few potions, or useful varieties, and some ink and needles, which I knew to be magical in nature.  Well enough.  


	2. Chapter 2

We returned to Waterdeep.  Once the things that we meant to sell were sold, we each went our own ways again, vowing to meet up again at the guild house in a ten-day or so.  We also returned the book to Hayworth to finish the original job, and got the rest of our pay.  The old man seemed very happy, and told us that when he found enough clues to go after the next book, that we would be the first he would ask to do so.

       I spent my time over the week doing many things.  Airk was content enough to work at the forge, making a few silvers a day…a paltry sum compared to what we made adventuring.  I spent time studying from the book of spells that the Zhentarim wizard had had.  Some of them would be useful, so I learned them.  

A few days into the week, I was approached by a young human, who told me that I must go to the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors.  Once there, I found out that if I wanted to continue practicing magic in Waterdeep, I would have to register with them, and pay a "nominal" fee.  What foolishness and greed humans have, charging money so that one may practice their chosen vocation.  Yet I was not willing to give up what I had only so recently regained, even if Airk sneered the whole time that magic was worthless enough, and we certainly did not need it.  I paid the fee, and while I was there, got the materials to summon a familiar.  I had not summoned one before, but I knew that they could be useful beasts, good for carrying messages, and spells, and such.

I spent a day in a lovely, wooded park in Waterdeep, and when the spell was completed, I gained the aid of a squirrel as my familiar.  He was wholly unimpressive looking, yet I knew that even the smallest creature could be useful…even if Airk merely commented that its use would best be served as a stew, or a fur pelt.  Needless to say, I am growing adept at ignoring Airk's voice when it comes to anything magical.  He can be quite annoying.  I named my familiar Sanhandrian, after the weapon of my god, Corellon.  Naturally, Airk has already taken to calling him "Sandy", merely to irritate me, I've no doubt.

Later in the week, I let Airk have free reign, and we went down to a master's forge, in a better part of town that where we work.  Airk spent some of the money we'd made to trade in the great sword we'd found on the bugbear for a beautifully worked elven great sword, though I find I must wonder at the size of the elf who wielded it, for it fit my hands perfectly. We stayed there for a while, watching the smiths work, admiring their techniques, and ultimately finding out, that as a smith, Airk was being seriously underpaid, and that most of the people around there considered Stefan a cheat.  Needless to say, that did not sit well with my pride, or Airk's, so we returned to the forge, and quit…permanently.       

A few days after that, after rereading the last bit of writing I had done…and realizing just how unstable I had gotten, I decided to redouble my efforts to locate the elven temple within Waterdeep.  To that end, I sought out Tobias, he being the only other elf I knew of in the area.  It took me a good few hours to find him, wandering about down in the dock ward of the city, apparently looking for an inn to play at.  I followed silently behind him for nearly an hour before he realized that he was being followed.  I guess it is a good thing that Tobias adventures with the rest of us, or else he would certainly be dead from a lack of perception.  Finally, he turned around, and noticed me.  He asked me what I was doing, and what I wanted.  I told him that I needed to find an elven temple… and soon.  He seemed to think about it for a moment then nodded, and headed off, saying he knew the way.  I followed him for a while, and eventually we came upon a large crowd of people gathered.  Interested in what was going, on, we walked over, to see an overweight, balding human man standing on a box, talking to the crowd.  He spoke of how the gods were false, and how the people had been betrayed in their loyalty to the gods.  I laughed at his, but continued to listen.  I noticed that the man was wearing a flower behind his ear, and though it odd, for some reason I could not put a finger onto. Then he spoke of the "one true god."  I spoke up then.

"What god would that be?" I asked, sneeringly, for nothing would turn me from devotion to Corellon, and nominal following of Tempus.  The crowd took up the question, and the man finally had to answer.  He spoke of a god called Moander, though the name meant nothing to me.  Some sort of god related to plants, and such.  I lost interest quickly, after that.  The crowd was getting rowdy, though, so after a bit longer, the members of the city watch would been standing around, forced them to disperse.  As the speaker went to leave, I noticed something that bothered me…the flower behind his ear was still growing…and the end of it went into his ear. I attempted to point it out to Tobias, but the elven bard did not see, so I wonder if, perhaps, my imagination was not playing games with me.  

As we, too, moved to leave, I caught sight of someone at the edge of the crowd…a glimpse only, but enough to make me seeks out the person.  There I saw another elf, also of the Teu Tel' Quessir, with silver hair and amber-hued eyes.  He was shaking his head, an expression of distain on his face.  He was dressed in plain enough clothing, although of fine quality…not the uniform I remembered seeing him in.  Perhaps that is why it took me more than a moment to recognize him as a person I once knew…or at least, knew of.

"Lord Craulnober," I fell to one knee before him.  Though he was not royalty, I owed him allegiance, for he was the Captain of the King's guard.  I was in shock…finally, after all these years…a familiar face!  More importantly, someone who I knew, without a doubt, knew the way home.

Lord Elaith looked down, momentarily confused, as I also knew Tobias to be.

"What are you doing?" Tobias queried.  I looked up at the bard.

"Do you not know?  This is Lord Craulnober, the captain of the King's guard on Evermeet.  He deserves respect."  

"Please, stand up," Lord Elaith ordered, and so I did.  

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you, Lord Captain," I stated to him, fervently.  "It had been so long."

"Do I know you?" Lord Elaith asked, looking at me curiously.

"Perhaps you do not remember.  It has been many years, and I have changed a great deal.  I am Keledrial Nightstar, 1st son of the house Nightstar.  I have been lost from the People these many long years, and I am certain that I am thought to be dead after so long."  He seemed to think about it for a moment.  He seemed to recall the name, but I do not think he knew me, beyond that.  After all, he had been the Captain of the guard, with far more important things to do that to take note of one sickly, elven child.

Captain Elaith invited Tobias and I back to his tavern to talk.  He led us down to a building in Dock ward, with a sign of a darkened dagger over the door.  When we walked in, the people running the place instantly greeted Captain Elaith, and cleared out a booth in the back for him.

We spoke for a while, and I explained a bit of what had happened to me, while Tobias was invited to play on the small stage.  Captain Elaith listened graciously, asking few questions.  He eventually told me that he was no longer in the King's guard, that he had left the position when he had come to the mainland.  Searching back, I now vaguely remember that Elaith had, indeed left, a few years before I did, although I recall nothing of his reasons for doing so.  In any case, I felt he still deserved respect for having held such a position.  Finally, just as Tobias sat down again, after a round of applause for his wonderful performance, I came to the one question that I desperately needed the answer too.

"How do I return to Evermeet?" I asked Elaith.  He raised an eyebrow.

"Well you can't, not now anyhow.  There are no ships going there."

"Why not?" I asked, my hopes falling.  

"Evermeet was attacked, very recently…I believe that the battle is over, but the damage to the island was great.  I imagine that no ships will be going there until the situation stabilizes again."

"Attacked?! "I gasped, disbelieving.  "Surely not…there is nothing that could attack us on so large a scale…" I protested.

"I'm afraid it is so.  They say that it was drow, come from long forgotten tunnels below the island…though perhaps not so long forgotten," he added wryly.  And vaguely I recalled that Elaith was the last of his family…that the Craulnobers had been killed…on Evermeet many years before my birth…it an attack from below.  Still, the concept of a large-scale attack by the drow on Evermeet was inconceivable, unbelievable to me, and even as I write this, my shock is still strong.

"Drow…but it can't be…"

"It was not only drow…human pirates, as well…from Luskan, I believe…" Elaith added.  I growled…or rather Airk did.  Both sides of myself are still elven, but where as I reeled at the concept of drow, Airk was furious at the idea of Luskan pirates attacking…the people of Ruathym, as so too, Airk, hate the Luskan folk for their many attacks on them.  In my hand, the glass of fine wine I had been drinking shattered beneath my crushing grip, shards of crystal slicing into my hand.  Yet I did not feel it.

"And the King and Queen…they were not harmed were they?  The Moonflowers still hold the throne?" I asked…  For a moment, Elaith and Tobias exchanged a glance.

"The Queen does still rule, yes, from what I have heard… but the King…King Zaor was assassinated many years ago by an elven traitor."  A red haze fell over my eyes, and in my grief, I howled a terrible scream…my King was dead.  It was not anything I could have anticipated, and the knowledge seared me deeply.  Dead…and by the hands of an elf… Evermeet attacked… My whole world, the dreams I had clung to were all shattered in that moment.  I had looked to return home, but home would not be as I remembered.  I had assumed to return to find the remaining members of my family, to kneel once more before my King and Queen…yet it was not to be…  In my grief I turned on Tobias, grabbed the front of the smaller elf's shirt with my wounded hand.

"Why didn't you tell me this?!" I shook him, angrily.  

"Y-you…didn't…as-ask!" He managed to stutter out.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw people around the bar, including Lord Elaith, tensing…I knew I had to calm down, or risk having someone attempt to "calm" me down.  I focused, took deep breaths, and with a shuddering sigh, the red haze withdrew, and I sat back down to my seat, releasing Tobias.  I took a long drink from the bottle, grateful for the numbing burn of strong liquor.  Then another…lowering my face to my free hand.  No one spoke… perhaps they felt uncomfortable, or perhaps they understood my grief, having once know it themselves.  I did not know what to do.   Finding my way home had been my focus for so many years, and now…it was gone…home was not the same…and never again would be.  I cursed myself, for though I know it a foolish though, I wondered perhaps, if I had not been absent, might I not have helped somehow?  I had been gone, when I might have been needed.  One more high-mage might have turned the tide of any battle…but I had not been there.  Even now, there might no one of my family left who might remember me.  And there greatest leader the elves had ever had…King Zaor was gone…

I spoke with them a while longer, but my heart was no longer in the converse.  I only wanted to drink myself into oblivion, but my two companions would not allow me to do so.  Finally, I rose, and stated my desire to depart, that I wanted to find the elven church, as had been my initial intent that day.  I felt that, perhaps, speaking with a priest of my faith my help soothe my soul, and at least give me something to do.  Lord Elaith gave us directions, which were in completely the opposite direction that Tobias had been taking us.  The bard at least had the good graces to look sheepish when he realized that he had been caught in his falsehood.  Before I left, I turned to Elaith, and said,

"I thank you for the information you have given me today, Lord Elaith, grievous though it was.  If there is anything I can do to repay you, you need only ask.  We," I gestured to Tobias and myself, "are often found over near the adventurer's guild house."  Elaith merely nodded, and we headed out.

Thanks to the proper directions, we found the church easily enough.  The priests were upset when we walked in, for there was blood from my hand on Tobias and myself, and they thought us to be wounded.  I explained that we were not, and that I wanted to speak with a priest of Corellon, about a personal matter.  My request was quickly answered.  A smallish, moon elf with dark hair, wearing robes and the symbol of Corellon, came out and led me to a private room.   As we walked, I felt many eyes upon me, and my keen ears, caught the sounds of whispered comments…mostly about my height and size, and general appearance.  I lowered my head, not meeting any of their gazes… my people thought me a freak…as I had suspected for so long.  It hurt worse than I would have expected… I knew then, that I had truly become like the Cha-Tel Quessir…trapped between two worlds…forever outcast in both.  The knowledge burned me, and I felt terrible anger and sorrow.  The whole while, Airk laughed at me, jeering that I was weak, if I cared so much about the opinions of others.  That it was better to be strong, and that there would come a day when I would be forgotten.  It is very hard to ignore a voice within your own mind, but I did my best and explained that if he didn't shut the hells up, I would take our sword and axe, and pitch them into the harbor.  He fell silent.

I spoke at length with the priest, whose name is Celedor.  Though it was difficult for me to voice my problems, I told him every thing…confessing the horrible things I had done, and the terrible fracture in my mind and soul, that was growing worse every day.  He listened intently, but the he response was not the one I had secretly hoped for.  I had wanted there to be some divine spell, some magical means of eradicating the growing presence of Airk…but there was not.  A wound such as mine could be healed, Celedor stated, but it would take time…and it was not something that magic, in any form, could, fix.  It would take effort and diligence on my part to repair what I…yes, I…had done to myself.  I listened to him speak for a while, and some of what he said seemed to make sense to me.  I would have to come back to the temple often, for the aid I needed.  I knew I would do so, but after several hours had passed, I felt Airk grow restless within me again, and finally, I rose to leave.

Outside, Tobias waited still.  He asked what I had spoken to the priest about, but I gave him no answer.  My personal affairs were none of his business, friend or no.  

That night, I took a "tour" of the bars of dock ward, doing my best to drink myself into oblivion.  The drink numbed the pain that the news I had heard of my home and my king.  By the end of the night, I was unconscious, and I recalled nothing of how I managed to get back to the inn where I was staying.  Tobias kindly informed me the next day, that he had rented a cart and dragged me back.  I suppose that I should have felt more gratitude to him, but, the after effects of the previous evening were still with me at the time, and it was all I could do to keep my eyes open.  Fortunately, in my spellbook, there was a spell to help with such…difficulties, and as soon as I could concentrate enough, I cast it upon myself.

A new sign appeared at the adventurer's guild that day, but up by the city watch.  They were looking for assistance in uncovering the identity of the person who was behind several murders in the city…the latest one occurring only last night.  At that, Tobias opened his mouth, and mentioned that he had discovered the body from last, night, as he had been carting me home, and summoned the watch.  I asked him why he had not mentioned this before, why he had not awoken me so that we might have looked around to try to find the killer.  I have little confidence in the intelligence of humans to search for the proper clues.  By way of reply, Tobias merely shrugged, and stated that he didn't think he could have awoken me in my condition, had the demons of the nine hells been pouring out of a crack in the ground.

When the others arrived, Calvin and the dwarves, we discussed briefly about attempting to take on the job of investigation.  I told them what I had learned of the murders, before we had left to go to the orc encampment, and then to Goldenfields.  I had spoken briefly with guard…I may not have mentioned that previously, as it did not seem important at the time.  They spoke of other murders that had occurred, prior to the whore who had been killed outside of the tavern. The information was still in my head and I told the others of it.  Tobias went on to explain what he had seen last night, which had consisted of a pool of blood spreading from an alley, and a body, warmth barely faded from the limbs.  I told them how I thought that the murders were not committed randomly, but rather by a person who knew what they were doing, judging by the preciseness of the wounds.  Finally, Calvin stated that he had heard of the murders, and thought them an affront, and that if the rest of us were willing, that he would like to try and discern the killer's identity.   Having little better to do with ourselves, the rest of us agreed.  

So we headed down to the watch captain's station.  They let us in as soon as we explained that we were there because of the sign that they had put up at the guild house.  They led us to an upstairs room, where a large, somewhat overweight human man with a brown beard and hair to match, was seated before a desk.  

He answered all the questions we could come up with about the murders.  There had been 6 so far, each one in a different ward of the city.  The people did not seem to share any similarities in their lives…one was a whore, the next a merchant's son, the third was a tavern wench, the forth a traveler from a place called Calimport, the fifth a half-orc dock worker, and the most recent was an old woman who lived alone in the Sea Ward.  Some were murdered on the streets, some in alleyways, and some in their own homes.  There was no pattern to when it happened, and the only thing that proved that it was the same killer doing this, was that they all died with the same wounds.  A slash across the chest, and throat. In particular, I asked about these slash wounds…especially the angle's in which they were made.  Calvin caught on to my way of thinking immediately, and when the captain explained what I needed to know, he nodded, and glanced at me.

"The killer is left handed," he said.  I nodded in agreement.  

"Great," Tobias sat back.  "That only narrows the list of suspects down to a third of the city of Waterdeep," he laughed.

"Did anyone catch any glimpse of the killer?" Calvin asked.

"Actually, one person did…a half–elven dock worker down in dock ward.  He was friends with one of the victims…the half-orc dock-worker.  He came out of the bar, just after his friend, and saw a cloaked form walking out of the alley where the body was found.  The only thing he remembered was that the person was tall…nearly six feet…and that he clinked when he walked."

"So our list narrows…a tall, armored person, who is left handed.  Wonderful…that brings the number down to around ten thousand or so, wouldn't you say?" Tobias, added, unnecessarily.  I glared at him, warning silently to shut up.  He merely grinned.

"Do you have any other information?" I asked.

"Well…actually, we did find a blood trail, with one of the murders.  It led to the Morning spires…the temple of Lathlander, in the city.  We questioned the priests, though, and they didn't know anything.  I have to say, that I believe them…after all, the Lathlanderites aren't the type to be involved with something like this.  We're thinking the killer left a false trail to distract us."

So, with that, we left the watch station, and decided to do our own investigation.   Seeing as Calvin was a respected kind of person in the city, being a paladin of Tyr and all, we deiced to have him ask the families of the victims, questions…especially about any strange or unusual people that the victims might have seen or spoken with the last few days of their lives.  Meanwhile, the rest of us began to check out each of the murder sights.  We found nothing…nothing that would be of any use to us, until we got to the most recent murder…and in a corner, where there were none of the watch boot prints to mess anything up, I found a footprint.  It was not much, but I could tell by the size of the foot, that the man had been of a large stature…matching the half-elf's description…there was a small notch out of the corner of the boot, and I knew that if called upon to do so, I could identify the same boot print again, if I saw it…not that it would be much help to us.  As Tobias had stated, there were thousand of people in the city who met that description.    

We walked to where we meant to meet Calvin, later that night, as it had taken up most of the day doing our investigation.  As we did, I asked about this temple of Lathlander, and the god worshipped there.  According to Tobias, Lathlander was some human god of the morning, and rebirth, and life, and so on…basically, all things good and living.  The church was well known for its good working throughout the mainlands, and its efforts to destroy undeath wherever they found it.  Its paladins and priests were as well respected, if not more so, that those of Calbin's god Tyr.  Therefore, it seemed wholly unlikely that any one from such a place could be involved with murder.

Calvin had only one piece of information.  From the same half-elf friend of the dead dockworker, he had learned that the half-orc had spoken with some a few days before he had died…a priest of Lathlander.  He had said that the half-orc was trying to get over a bad drinking problem, and had asked the priest for help.  Two days later, he was dead.  That bit of information seemed damning in my eyes.  Twice the priests of Lathlander had shown up involved with the investigation…twice was enough for me to be suspicious.  Calvin had learned the name of the priest, who was not truly a priest, but a paladin...one Alexander Brightstar.  We decided to pay a visit to the church in the morning.

So we went to the church.  The building consisted of two tall towers that rose up from several smaller buildings, high into the sky.  They vaguely reminded me of some of the buildings from Evermeet, with their brightness and beauty, but these were human buildings, all the same, wood and stone forced into their shapes by human crafters.  

It was deiced that Calvin would be the one to go inside, and do the talking.  He was a paladin of a respected religion, and who better than that to speak with a priest of another religion.  Besides that, the dwarves were not great in the conversation department, and I saw no point in allowing a potential enemy to know the faces of all of us.

About an hour later…and hour in which I stalked around the building looking and listening for anything suspicious, while Tobias lounged against a tree in a garden area to the side of the church, and told me to relax…Calvin emerged, his face grim.

"I have spoken with Alexander.  He is a paladin of Lathlander.  I cannot say whether or not he is involved; for he seemed sincere in his answers to me…but he does somewhat match the physical description.  What bothers me though, is that when I asked to speak with his superior, he stated that the man had taken a day off, for personal reflection.  I insisted, and he took me the room of this man.  The door was locked, and when I knocked upon it, I heard the sound of movement from within, but there was no answer.  Alexander did not seem overly disturbed, but I fear that something strange is going on…that the leader, the Dawn master of the church may be in some danger.  What this has to do with the murder, I do not know, but thought it a good idea to mention it."

"This room…does it have a window?" I asked.  Calvin shrugged.  

"I do not know…but it is on the ground floor, on the outer wall of the tower, I think."

"Show me," I demanded, picking up Sanhandrian from the ground where he had been digging for something.  We walked around the building, and finally Calvin stopped.

"Here…I think it is here."  There was a window…a thin arrow slit of a window, deep set into the wall, barely wide enough for my arm.  I reached in through the opening and dropped Sanhandrian on the ground.  Now, a wizard and his familiar have a mental bond…a link that allows them to communicate.  I had such with Sanhandrian, and though he is smarter than any other squirrels, he still needs simple instructions.  I told Sanhandrian to try to find someone living, something moving…to tell me what he saw and smelled.  What I got back from him was not encouraging.  There was no movement, no person, but on the floor below the window, he smelled blood, felt air.  I relayed back to the others what my familiar had seen, then bade Sanhandrian to climb back out, to me.  A moment later, he hopped up onto my shoulder, and held out his little furry paws, wanting a treat for being "good."   I idlely gave him a bit of a walnut, and turned to Calvin.

"Demand to go into that room…say that you are concerned about the priest…do what you must, but get in there, and find out what is going on.  We will wait here by the window, and come in, of you ask."  Calvin nodded, for the plan was sound, and went back into the church.

"And take Sanhandrian with you," I added, placing the squirrel in Calvin's hand.  "Where he goes, I will know the way."  Calvin seemed disconcerted by the squirrel, but took it in stride.  A few moments later, there were voices within the room, Calvin's and another man's.

"…I cannot say that I like this…the Dawn master would not appreciate breaking into his room," the other voice stated.

"And if the Dawn master is in danger…?" Calvin queried.  The other sighed.

"Very well then, but we must be quick."  There was the sound of movement in the room, and Calvin was quiet.  Then,

"Here…there is a crack in the floor…something is hidden beneath.  But I cannot find the way in." 

"Here, give him this," Hank suddenly stated to me, handing me a crowbar.  I went to the window, and called Calvin over.  I rather would have liked to see the expression on the other paladin's face when he realized that there were people waiting outside.  I gave Calvin the crowbar and instructed him to use it on the crack he'd found.  A few moments passed.

"No good," Calvin said, even as the other paladin protested about this "destruction" to the Dawn master's room.

"The crack is too thin…there must be another way to open it."  

"Look for a switch, or a lever," I told him.  "I have an idea, but it will take me a bit to get it."   With that, I took off, not bothering to explain.  As usual, Tobias followed me…rather irritating seeing as he could barely keep up with my swift pace at a run.  I went all the way back to the mages guild, and bought a scroll of a spell called knock.  The spell could open any locked or barred door, and I assumed it would do the same for whatever Calvin had found within the building.  In a hurry, I decided to run back to the church…to make things easier on myself, I grabbed Tobias up, and threw him over me shoulder, so he would not slow me down.  He protested a bit, but I ignored.

When we got back to the church, I dropped Tobias, and strode in through the front door, purposefully.  Following the way that Sanhandrian had gone, several priests moved to stop me, saying that I could not go back there, but all it took was one of Airk's glares to have them back away.  I made my way to the room Calvin was in, Tobias my shadow.  Calvin was poking around at the wall, even while I finally caught sight of the paladin that was getting so upset over what Calvin was doing.  He was complaining that Dawnmaster Markus would not like this.  Without explaining, I stood over where the crack in the floor was, and began to read off the scroll, lamenting that I was wasting a spell that I could have scribed in my spell book.  The moment I finished, there was a grinding noise, unique to the sound of stone moving against stone.  On a small altar in the room, a golden statue to the god Lathlander turned in a full circle, and the crack became a block, which slowly sunk into the floor, then moved off to one side, revealing a dark staircase.  I looked back, and saw that Alexander had a stunned expression on his face, that I felt was sincere.  Whatever this was, he had not known about it.  

We called out the window for the two dwarves to make their way in here, and then, I began to climb down, followed by Calvin, Tobias, and the paladin, Alexander.  It was dark until we reached the bottom of the stairs, many feet below the surface.  There were lit torches along the walls of a short corridor, which lead up to a door, with a strange symbol inscribed on it.  The symbol was not the sun of Lathlander, but of black antlers on a red background.  Very curious.  

"What is this symbol," I asked the others…no one knew.  I am never one to delay, so I opened the door, which was not locked, and walked into the room beyond.  The room was large, and sparse, made of stone.  There was a large altar in the center, with a statue of the same creature that had been on the door, sitting upon it.  Kneeling before this altar was an older man, thin, with dark hair.  He looked up as we walked in, his face the picture of outrage.

"What is going on?  What are you people doing here?  How dare you invade my private sanctuary?!" He spat out the questions at us faster than anyone could answer.

"What is this place, Dawn master?" Alexander asked, looking highly confused.  

"My private sanctuary, and none of your business, paladin," the Dawn master replied.  

"But this is no symbol of Lathlander," Alexander protested.  Meanwhile, to my side, Tobias was chanting quietly.  He touched my arm a moment later.

"There," he whispered in elven. "Against the far wall…there is something there…powerful magic."  He pointed.  I nodded, and walked that way.  Behind me, I heard the dwarves had finally arrived.  They seemed disappointed that there was no battle.

"What I do with my own time, is no one's concern.  Now all of you leave now, before I have the guard called, and have all of you arrested for trespassing," the priest exclaimed, angrily.  The others seemed to believe that this man was innocent…that this hidden place had nothing to do with the murders…Hank even turned and climbed back up the stairs, muttering about how we were all fools.  Yet, I remembered the blood that Sanhandrian had smelled…why would there be a scent of blood if this was innocent?  And the wall where Tobias claimed was magic, seemed nothing more than plain stone…what was this human hiding?  Why would the high priest of one god be in a hidden room, with a symbol to another?  I studied the priest carefully walking closer to my goal.  He again ordered the others to leave.

"We are hear to investigate murder," I said, suddenly.  The priest instantly turned to look at me…and Alexander suddenly looked down….  Very strange.  

"The guard has already spoken with me on that matter, and know that the priests here had nothing to do with that," The Dawn master said to me.  I sensed the falseness in his words, in the shifting of his eyes away from mine.  

"Nothing to do with them?  And does the watch know about this room?  I think not," I stated, softly.  

"This place is my sanctuary.  It is of no consequence."  Again, the lie.  And as I inched closer to the wall, I felt it…magic, as Tobias had warned me…but I sensed a foulness to the magic.

"You are lying," I stated.  

"How dare you…?" The priest sputtered.  I turned my back on him, ignoring him.  The others, including Alexander, began to ask more questions, again I paid no attention.  Still, they distracted him long enough that I reached the wall, and stared, disbelieving at the stone there.  Suddenly, the illusion that was in place there fell to my eyes, and I saw the nature of the magic hidden there.  It was a tapestry…hanging from the wall, several feet taller than myself.  The scene it depicted was not a pleasant one…but of 4 strange, rat-like creatures that stood like a humanoid, with glowing red eyes, and sharp talons.  Evil.  I knew it.  Why would such and evil be here…and why would a so-called "good" priest be trying to hide it.  

"And what is this here, that you hide, human?" I called to him, gesturing towards the tapestry.  He glanced over, a false expression of confusion on his face.

"I don't know what you speak of…there is nothing there but a wall."  

"Liar…you know as well as I that it is here.   Why do you try to hide, when you know that you are found out?"  I stepped closer to him.  He laughed, but I sensed a tenseness in it.

"Perhaps you should stay here at the temple for a while, that we help you with your…madness," he walked towards me, holding one hand out, his tone the type that one would use on a madman or a hysterical child.  I knew that what I was seeing was true, though.

"You lie I am a wizard…I know when people lie," I bluffed. "And if I am mad, then pray tell, what is this?" I spun back, and grabbed the edge of the tapestry.  When I pulled it away, I knew that it would break the illusion spell.  I did not expect, however, the bolt of pain that ripped up through my arm…a foul kind of magic that felt like black lightning, burning me.  I screamed, but the purpose was served, the tapestry revealed.  The others looked with horror on the monstrous tapestry…but no one more so than Alexander.

"Sir…what is this horror?!" he choked.  The priest stood up straight, his expression changed, grew calm, and confident.  That was enough for me to reach for my axe.  

"Of course I know you are a wizard, elf…what elf in the world isn't?" He sneered at me. Then he turned to the others.

" Fools…I would have let you go, but now it appears you shall be the next sacrifices!"  He began to chant, quick and harsh.  Mentally, I ordered Sanhandrian out of the room, to get some other priests down here. The squirrel ran off without hesitation, disliking the sense of foulness he had felt since coming down here. From behind me, I felt the magic of the tapestry redoubled, and the room was lit with a glow from behind me.  Meaning to stop the priest before he could finish his spell, I flung my axe at him, but the weapon bounced off some sort of shield around the man.  I thought to try a spell, but before I got the chance, Airk roared within me, and drew our sword.  He charged at the priest in a battle rage, even as the magic from the tapestry drew forth the creatures, which had been woven onto it, as real beings, who began to attack us from behind.  The battle erupted with shouts and prayers, and from myself, a cry to Corellon, which caused the priest's eyes to widen in hatred.  As the full force of the rage slipped over, I was forced to watch as Airk attacked.  I had little enough sense of what was occurring, only that the priest stood his ground, and chanted again, even as some of our hits slid off whatever shields he had up…but only some.  When his prayer, to a god I did not know, ended, a creature was summoned forth…a huge, demonic looking animal that looked something like a large cat, appeared.  I knew, instantly, that this thing would be beyond our skill to defeat alone.  But…we were not alone.  Even though he had been stunned at the outset of the fight, Alexander rallied, and began a prayer to Lathlander that I heard over the ringing of battle.  A moment later, Alexander changed…he became something more than human…something that radiated good and light in a ratio equal to the evil thing that the other had brought forth.  The creature that Alexander had become…a golden, glowing, vaguely leonine beast, leapt at the cat-demon thing, and a heartbeat later, both vanished, and Alexander was left, standing for a moment, then falling over, unconscious.

Airk…I…continued to attack the priest, enough of our attacks getting through his shield that he was beginning to bleed freely from many wounds.  Even though I did not feel pain in a rage, I knew that I was wounded, felt the claws of one of the rat-things from the tapestry tearing into my back.  I vaguely saw the others fighting…saw Hank appear at the shouts, from above …saw several of the rats attacking Ranon…but it meant nothing to me in my focus on the priest…he was the leader, and so, the largest threat.  Another hit, and suddenly, the priest realized that his life was in danger of being ended.  He had expected a wizard from my being elven…but instead of a wizard, he'd found a warrior of the north...he broke from the battle and ran.  But we are fast, and took up the chase.  He tried to dodge, to trick us, but it did not happen.  Finally, he was cornered and sank to his knees, cowering.

"Please…no!" he cried.  Airk drew the great sword high, meant to strike the killing blow, but I screamed at him, exerting what control I had over my own body.  :No! We might need him alive…the tapestry is an artifact!  It might be controlling him… he might be innocent!:  And Airk heard…at the last moment, he turned the edge, and struck with the flat of the blade, knocking the man unconscious.  Then turned back to battle, and attacked the rat creatures.

This fight was harder, for it seemed that blows that would fell a man were shrugged off by the creatures with hardly more than a scratch.  At one point, Tobias came up with the idea to stop this, by slashing the tapestry.  I might have warned him that an artifact was more powerful than a mere blade…but I could not.  At his attack, though, the attentions of all of the rat creatures were drawn to the tapestry, and thus to Tobias.  They attacked him, and he fell quickly, leaving only a few of us standing, none unwounded.  We hacked into the rat creatures, and one by one, they fell, vanishing in smoke, and reappearing in the tapestry a moment later.  Finally, the last one fell, and Calvin slashed the tapestry down from its hook where it folded over.  The threat had ended, and even as it did, as the strength of my rage faded from me, leaving me feeling wounded and drained…then… finally, the priests from above arrived, gazing at the scene before them in horror.  

I paid little enough attention as they awakened Alexander …as questions were asked and answered.  I knew only that it appeared that Alexander was the murderer after all…that he had been acting on the orders of the Dawn master…that he believed that those people had had to die in order to prevent some prophecy of someone called Alaundo from occurring…that he knew nothing of the tapestry and the Dawn master's betrayal.  I got the feeling that what he was saying was the truth.  I felt bad for him, but at the same time, that he had been foolish to trust his superior so completely that he would be willing to go against his own nature and commit murder…no matter the reason given.  

We eventually left the clergy of Lathlander to clean up the mess.  The watch arrived moments later, and I did not feel like doing much talking.  A priest healed up my wounds, and as soon as I got the chance, I left, and went back to the inn for some much needed rest.

We got our payment from the watch a few days later, along with their thanks for what we had done.  Calvin also showed up, with a bunch of things, that he said the priests at the temple to Lathlander had given him to give to the rest of us.  Apparently, the Dawn master who'd been behind the whole plot had been a fraud all along.  He was actually some priest to a goddess called Beshaba, who has something to do with misfortune.  In any case, he had killed the real Dawn master on the road, on the way to the church, then taken his place, for what reason, Calvin didn't know.  The things that the church had given us were items that had belonged to the false priest.  He wouldn't be needing them, seeing as he would be in a jail cell for a long time for what he had done.  Calvin also mentioned that Alexander was not being arrested, even though he had done the actual killings.  He would have to do some service for the city, and atone to his god, for many years to come, but that was all, apparently.  I was indifferent to the whole matter, but from the things, I took a very large, darkwood bow.  The pull on it was a bit too strong for me to use with ease, but I meant to build up my strength until I could use it.  

Over the week, I did several things, the first of which was to register at the smith's guild…of which there was one in the city that my former employer had not mentioned…I wonder why?  Then I found out the names of two places that were looking for workers that had reputations for good quality, and good pay.  The former was the smithy I had gone to a while back, which was run by a dwarf.  Naturally, I decided to check out the other place first.  The other smithy was run by a human named Brian the Swordmaster, and upon entering it, I saw that it seemed a fine enough place.  There were a number of forges, and people working at them.  I watched for a while, before a large, aproned man approached me, and asked if he could help me.  I explained that I wanted a job, and was a fairly good smith.  He asked where I had worked before, and I answered him truthfully.  He grimaced when I said Stefan's name.  I assumed that he, too, knew that I had been taken advantage of by the weasel of a human. I also mentioned that I had worked in the Moonshaes before that, but I did not say more than that.  He seemed willing to give me a chance, said that if my work was sound, and of good enough quality, he would pay me five gold a day.  I added that I was an adventurer, and would occasionally have to leave without much advance warning.  He shrugged, and said that I could do what I wanted, since he would be paying me on a day-to-day basis.  The situation seemed fine enough for both of us, and I told him that I would start the next day.

I left, and began asking around to find out if there was a place, nearby the forge that I could rent, to stay…something less expensive, and on a longer-term basis than a room at an inn.  While I was doing so, I ran across Tobias, who had been looking for me, for some reason he did not explain, other than he did not want me to get in trouble.  I finally found someone who knew of a place…a man was renting out a loft above his house, a street or so away from the forge, so I headed over there, Tobias tagging along like an over-eager puppy.  I wonder why he does so, sometimes…I am certain that I cannot be good company…and I am generally fairly rude to him…but I suppose it might have something to do with being the only two elves in the group… indeed, in the area, save for Lord Elaith.  We at least speak the same language, and understand some basic tenets above elven life, even if I am from Evermeet, and Tobias has never seen the elven homeland.

The building was not too far from the forge, and the man there was polite when we spoke to him.  He showed us the room, which was a fairly large, open, and empty loft at the top of his house.  There was plenty of light, thanks to several windows, and although it was dusty, I thought it would do well enough as a place to rest, and to store things.  The price was fair, at a gold a ten day, so I accepted.  Tobias did not surprise me, when he asked if I wouldn't mind a roommate.  I believe I shrugged, and replied that so long as he was quiet when I wanted quiet, and was willing to pay half the rent, I was fine with the idea.  So we paid for the place, for three months, and went to get our things from the inn.  Tobias used a few cantrip spells he knew to clean up the dustiness of the room. I could've done the same, but didn't see the need, since he was more than willing to do the "women's work," as Airk would call it.  I chose the far corner of the room to sleep in. It was away from any windows or doors, and so away from any potential, immediate threats.  Used to sleeping on the floor, for so long, I merely tossed my bedroll and sleeping furs down on the floor there, and promptly decided to have a nap, leaving Tobias to his own devices.

The rest of the week passed fairly swiftly.  I spent a great deal of time down at the forge, doing my best to impress my new employer.  I would hazard that I succeeded, although, much like my father, Brander, he was not one given to praise.  I did a bit of studying, and of, course, have been writing more and more in this journal…which I am glad to say now consists of an actual book of blank pages.  I do not know why it is that I feel compelled to continue with this, seeing as, there very well might not be any one left from my family alive to care to read it, as was the original purpose for beginning this.  The idea that Evermeet was, and might still be under attack is still so very surreal to me, and I think, that until the day I return home and see evidence of it for myself, that I will never truly believe it, no matter that the words came from an elf I know I can trust.

Tobias and the others seemed restless, the few times I saw them…mostly I saw Tobias, when I returned from work.  I am still shocked that he hasn't managed to fill up the loft with all manner of frivolousness.  His corner is almost as bare as mine, though, although where I keep my bow and weapons on the wall next to my pallet, he keeps musical items, and so forth.  He carries a harp, but often plays this strange, annoying instrument, called a harmonica.  The sound it makes grates on my nerves, but others seem to like it.  I would far rather him play the harp, but at the same time, I fear it would remind me of Evermeet, and my father…I do not need painful memories to haunt me at this time.

On another, note, I have been speaking with the priest at the temple nearly every night, after work.  I am determined to find a way to cure the rift in my mind.  He has told me to try to stop thinking of Airk as another person, since he is just a part of myself…but it is difficult, when I can still hear his voice, as though he were beside me, speaking to me.  Yet, I am trying.  

I have been experiencing odd visions at night, during my reverie.  I don't know why…but I dream of battles…titanic battles of no significance I can think of.  They seem old to me, and I feel that if these visions are true, that they happened a long, long time ago.  Many seem to involve the race of humans.  There seems to be no purpose I can find in my having these dreams, and I do not know what could possibly have spurred them, for I know little of human history, except as it relates to elven history.  Very curious…and very strange.

Finally, we have found another "adventure."  Tobias came to the forge, late one afternoon.  Fortunately, I was just finishing my work, so I was able to speak with him.  He explained that a new post had gone up that seemed a likely job for us, and that we were to meet the others at the potential employer's place of residence.  I went to Brian, my employer, and explained that I might have an adventure to go on, and that I might be away from the forge for a while.  He replied that I could do what I wished, that my job would be here for me, when I got back, but that I should be careful…he did not want to lose a good smith to a dungeon.  It was as close as I had ever gotten to praise for my work, and somehow, the idea pleased me.  I merely nodded, and followed Tobias out.

The place we met at was a small building of not special note, other than it matched the address on the post.  After knocking on the door, we were greeted by a human man…very small and slight, with pale blond hair that lay flat against his forehead, and blue eyes that looked as though they more belonged on the face of a woman, than a man.  He invited us in, when we explained why we were there, had us sit down, and offered us tea.  

His name was Karden, and he was a sage.  The job he wanted us to do, was to accompany him to an abandoned dwarven city, within a volcano in the mountains to the north, near a human city called Neverwinter.  The city had been abandoned many hundreds of years ago, when the volcano became active, and in recent years, had been taken over by creatures that preferred such a fiery temperature.  The sage wanted a book that was said to still be in the city…a history of the city, as it were.  During the conversation, I laughed, and remarked to Tobias, in a sneering tone,

"Leave it to dwarves to build a city on a volcano."  Tobias laughed as well, and Calvin shot us a dirty look.  I keep forgetting that he can speak and understand our language, as well.  I imagine, that if the dwarves had heard what we were saying, they would not have been so amused though.

Karden stated that he had special cloaks that he had had made for a previous expedition to a place called Chult, that would keep us from being burned, or over-heated within the sweltering heat of the city.  All he wanted, was for us to deal with the creatures we might, or might not encounter, and help him find the book.  The others asked about payment for our services, practical as ever.  Still…we were not doing anything that would help any number of people, but satisfy the curiosity of one…so I did not have trouble taking payment aw well.  The sage replied that he had no coin to pay us, that he had spent most of it on the cloaks, but that if we went along, anything else we found by way of plunder in the city…which had apparently been abandoned rather quickly, would be ours to keep, with himself taking no percentage of it.  The others seemed a bit put out by the idea of not knowing for certain of not whether there would be any decent pay involved in this venture, but in the end, having nothing better to do, seeing as I gathered that few of them had any real professions to practice, we agreed.

We left the very next morning, on a caravan headed north.  It was fairly slow going, but safe enough, I suppose.  I passed the time teaching Sanhandrian some tricks, and doing nothing in particular.  We reached the city of Neverwinter a full ten-day later.  We had little time to look around, however, as Karden kept us moving ever forward.  We continued north, into a forest, and two days later, reached our destination…a cave that went deep into the side of a large mountain…the volcano.  

We got into the city easy enough, for Karden had apparently done his research, and knew the way to open the doors.  Once inside, I immediately felt the heat rise from comfortable, to sweltering…hot even for me.  Karden quickly handed out the cloaks, and we donned them just as swiftly.  The larger animals, like the few horses, including Calvin's mount…and a dire fox that Hank had picked up somewhere, we'd left in the city, as there would be no place for them in a dungeon.

Once inside, Karden moved to the back, and let us lead.  Since no one seemed to want to go first, I grumbled and stalked ahead.  Fortunately, dwarves, for some reason, tend to build things very large…I had feared that the tunnels and city would be too small for people like myself, and Calvin to easily move through.  I wonder what it is that the dwarves were compensating for?  

I will not go into the details of every turn we made, and every door we opened, as it is mind numbing, even as we were doing so…more so in retrospect.  Many rooms seemed alike, just a previous one had been.   The first floor was all but empty, and Karden mentioned that other adventures might have come through before.  That statement did make the others very happy.  I was indifferent.  While we walked along, I checked for traps, having nearly fallen into the first one we encountered, when the floor fell out from beneath me.  As we got further into the city, we began to encounter…creatures.  All seemed to be fire based…some were small and imp-like, others reminded me of humanoid-like newt creatures, and others, still, were large and looked much like half snake, flaming monsters.  We had little difficulty with the first few groups we ran into, as we more than outnumbered them, our only major wounds consisting of burns from the heat that seemed to come from their skin.  

Then we started finding treasure.  Perhaps I make this seem like a bad thing…and to me, it was.  The first chest was trapped, with some sort of electric spell that shot up my hands, and burned pain through my body.  It was not a pleasant sensation.  Inside we found a bit of gold, and a few items…only one thing caught my attention, for it was a great sword.  The weapon was of fine make, even though it was dwarven in design. I sneered a bit at it, thinking that my elven sword was surely better, but Airk, being the bloody warrior he is, picked up to look closer at it.  As soon as my hands touched the hilt, I felt the tingle of magic against my palms.  Magic, to me, has always been a soothing thing, for I can always feel its presence…and the lack of it, as well.  So, while I mentally preferred wielding a blade of elvish design, to this one, my hands preferred the warmth of magic in this new one.  Airk stated loudly that he was the fighter, and he would decide what weapon we would use…and he liked the feel of this new sword.  I mentioned that it was a magic blade…and for the life of me, I cannot think how dwarves managed to enchant a blade with magic, being creatures as repulsed by the weave, as the humans of Ruathym were…perhaps even more so…still, Airk didn't seem to care…claimed that if the magic helped him hit and hurt better, what the hells did he care?  It is so irritating trying to deal with him…honestly!  Still, and all, I gave in.  What matter what weapon we used, so long as it kept the enemies at bay.  The older sword went onto my back, and the new one into my hands.  We continued on.  

We fought several more groups of creatures, again with great success, and found still yet more chests.  Three more to be exact.  And I'll be damned, if I didn't manage to get zapped by nearly everyone one of them, no matter what I tried to get around the ward inside.  It almost worked with the last one, when in a fit of temper, I flipped the box upside down, and chopped through the bottom…but when I reached in to pull the contents out, the ward went off anyhow!  I was so angry, that the box was in pieces before I could control myself again.  My hands ached, and my arms burned from all the energy that had been jolted through them.  All for a bit of gold, so that the other party members would not bitch about the lack of payment!

I believe that the others saw how dangerously close I was to losing my temper completely, and did not comment on my behavior.  Ranon healed my hands without my having to ask him, thankfully.  We continued on, the whole time, Tobias and I spoke back and forth, in elven…mostly insulting the dwarven architecture and such.  

In another room, we fought a larger group of them…this one outnumbered us.  When I saw that the others were all being wounded, far more than I believed was necessary, I slipped into my battle rage…with a call to Corellon for strength…that surprised me.  I think that part of me thinks that I cannot rage with out Tempus' aid…but, it appeared that it was not so.  

When I came out of the rage, the last fire newt fell to the ground before me.  Tobias whined once more about how I had splattered him with blood.  I merely glared at him, mentally telling him to get used to it.  If he felt the need to use me a shield, he would just damn well have to accept the consequences.

There was, of course, a treasure box in the room.  I flatly refused to touch the bloody, damned thing, so Hank took his turn.  I grinned, amused at the idea of someone else getting hit by the ward…and nearly screamed, when Hank opened the box with no ill affects.  It was not fair!  My guess was that the newt-creatures had already set off the trap…unfair…

After continuing on a bit, we ran across a pair of dwarves, oddly enough…a pair of ghostly dwarves.  Immediately recognizing Undeath when I saw it, I drew my sword.  One of the pair did the same…only he drew a wicked looking axe.  I locked gaze with him, and we exchanged a mutual glare.  Still, I did not move forward, waiting for the other to make the first move.  The other ghostly dwarf, and the rest of my party, though called for myself and my opponent to stop, and promptly began to talk.  I half heard the conversation, but I was too intent on the other to pay much attention.  They one dwarf ghost, who seemed to be talkative, spoke of a giant fire creature…salamander, I believe, who seemed to be in charge of the forces down here.  The creature was holed up in a place called the auditorium room.  The dwarf claimed that he was irritated with all the creatures running around his home, and said that if we were willing to help clear them out, he would tell us where the book we sought was.

So the others agreed, and myself, by default of being with them…not that I minded a good fight.  Still, I knew I would need rest before going into another battle, as I was still weary from my previous rage.  The dwarf…I have forgotten his name already, explained that the creature, the salamander had put up a wall of fire, blocking itself into the room, and that we would need to retrieve something called "ice dust" to still the fire and get past.  He claimed that we would most likely find some in the priests' chambers, beyond the old forge.  He also explained that if we needed to rest, we would find a safe place in a room nearby.  Then he stated that the book we sought was in the lesser priests' chambers…but that the only way to those rooms was to go past the salamander…naturally.  Then they vanished, as though they'd never been there.

The others deiced to first go retrieve, this "ice dust."  I was rather tired, but I said nothing.  No matter how I felt, I would not show weakness…not to any one, regardless of who they were.

We found the forge easily enough, and at first meant to walk straight through.  Suddenly, though, Ranon turned into one of the forge rooms, claiming that he thought he saw "something."  We all followed along, foolishly enough.  While he poked around in once corner of the room, I looked about, at the actual forge area, mentally comparing it with the forges I had worked at previously.  Naturally, this one was smaller in height, but grander in design. It had been cold for so long, that the dust on the anvil was inches thick.  Idly, I poked my sword at a pile of ancient coal, and wood and in a corner, and was therefore caught off guard when something moved within the pile of refuse.  A tentacle shot form the pile and hit my arm, cutting painfully into the skin.  A moment later, as the tentacle was grappling with my arm, and I was trying to bring my sword to bear, the actual body of the creature appeared, along with more tentacles.  It was a disgusting mass of brown, and eyes, and with a smell to it that reminded me of a garbage heap.  A memory surfaced, with a description, and I knew the creature as an Otyugh…although little else about it.  Still, it reacted poorly when I sliced my sword into it, when the others followed suit.  Soon enough, it was dead, a lifeless heat of disgusting matter in the coal.  Disgusted, I kicked it a few times for good measure, and stalked away.  Ranon looked up from where he had been searching a moment later, and held up the "something."  A single…lousy…silver piece.  He stuffed it in his pocket and did not even have the good graces to look sheepish.  Still, he healed the wound the creature had caused, which was a good, thing, as I did not like the look or feel of it.  There was a strange brown residue in it, but I assumed that whatever it was, the healing spell had gotten rid of it, seeing as my arm felt fine.

We went into the priests' quarters, where Ranon promptly began praying at one of several statues of dwarven gods that was in the room.  Jokingly, I asked Tobias if he thought that the dwarves had any female deities, and if they did, how did one tell the difference?  I mentioned it in the common tongue, in part; I think to needle Ranon for some reason.  Ranon, naturally, got offended, and shouted that his patron deity was Beronar, and wasn't she a woman?  And elves had no sense at all.  I laughed, and peered at the statue, then commented that I did, indeed, see breast…or so I thought…somewhere beneath the beard.  In elven, I mentioned to Tobias that it was disturbing enough that human males grew hair all over their faces and bodies…but at least one could tell their women from their men by more than their chest size.  The other elf laughed, but our amusement earned us another glare from Calvin.  I may respect the human for being a decent enough fighter, but by the gods, he has no sense of humor.  Besides, it is not like any of what I said was not true.

So we went to the "safe" room that the ghosts had mentioned.  The room seemed fine enough…until we realized that there was someone sitting in the chair that was before an empty fireplace.  As we entered, the person turned to look at us…and I realized that it was yet another ghostly dwarf.  This one looked older than the previous two had been, and definitely of a more scholarly bent, than the other two, who had most definitely been warriors in their lives.  I stood at the ready, but did not draw my weapon this time.  The others greatly the old dwarf in respectful tones, and the dwarf replied in his own language.  I did not understand a word of what was said, though the others seemed to.  It did not bother me, and I looked around the room, instead.  There was a fairly large bookcase on one side of the room, filled with books. Most of them were, however, written in the dwarvish and common tongues, so I could not even read the spines of the book.  In a way I was glad, for it meant that I had not lowered myself to learning the languages of those lesser than the people…yet in some ways, it made me feel ignorant…and I wondered what the books were of…if any of them were anything that might be of interest to me.  I wondered, for the first time, if I weren't, perhaps being foolish, clinging tenaciously to the belief that everything not elven was beneath my notice.  Worried at the strange bent my thoughts were taking, I turned to Tobias, and said something to him in elven…I no longer recall what.  When the dwarf in the chair turned to me, and addressed me in my own language…elven spoken with such a hoarse, gravely, accent…I was so shocked, so utterly amazed, that I do not recall a word the dwarf said to me.  

"You...speak…elven?" I managed to choke out.  

"And read it, as well," he held up the book in his lap that he'd been reading when we entered…I, too, could read it, though the dialect was very old…it was in elven…a book, written by an elf…about the high forest.

I merely stared at him, positively dumbfounded.  A dwarf…knowing elven?  Inconceivable.  Since I was not answering, he turned back to the others, and spoke, in common.  He mentioned about how the creatures…the salamanders, and newts were annoying, that he was upset they were in his home.  Then, he asked of the world outside, asked what trouble the wizards of Netheril were causing.  No one seemed to know what the dwarf was talking about…but I did.  I laughed at the dwarf.

"Netheril?  Netheril fell thousands of years ago, old man!  A truer example of the folly of allowing humans the use of magic, and the race's innate greed for power, will never be found." I exclaimed to him, arrogance in my tone.  The others all gave me strange looks…the one I got from Calvin was almost angry.  I ignored them, though, for my words were true.  The trouble caused by the power-grasping humans of the Netheril people had caused such massive changes and wrought such destruction, that whole cities fell, and a once great forest was now a desert…and that was just the beginning.  

I kept my focus on the dwarf, and for a moment I felt bad, upon seeing a saddened expression on his old, translucent visage.

"Well…it has been a long time…I don't get out very much, y'know," he said by way of explanation.  Feeling strangely guilty, I retreated from the conversation, to the corner of the room, near a large bookcase.  I am now writing this, while the others continue to talk.  I shall rest in a short while, though, for I am still weary from my rage.  Ranon and the old dwarf are speaking something about "rings of Truesilver" and how they were lost long ago.  It seems of little interest.  Idly, I looked over at the bookcase, and saw a tome, written in elven…perhaps I shall read a bit of it, before I go to sleep.  I think now, that I will cease writing, as Tobias is looking over here, seeming far too curious about what I am writing.  The other seemed shocked, earlier, when I began, mentioning about how, being a barbarian, they did not expect me to be literate.  I am quite proud of how Airk and I handled our temper, for we did not kill anyone, or even wound anyone for the insult.

To make a long story short, we found the leader of the salamander, who was huge, and much like myself, could go into a battle rage.  Still, the creature was rather dumb, and I defeated him, with only nominal help from the others, who were attacking the smaller salamanders.  We found the books, five heavy tomes, just beyond a statue of Ranon's dwarven goddess, and another like her.  I promptly gave them to the sage, though Tobias protested that he wished to read them first.  Ranon, meanwhile, was staring at the statues, and two rings, one on each of them that looked to be part of the statue.  He kept muttering that the "answer was here," and that the rings looked like the stone one on the statues.  In a bored tone, I told him, that he should take the rings from the statues, so that he would not forget what they look liked.  Ranon gave me a look as though I were an idiot.  I shrugged and walked on, uncaring.  Ranon was the idiot, though, for he was quite surprised, when he pulled the rings from the statue, only to find that the rings were real, and had been hidden in plain sight, disguised as stone, all along.

We found a bit more treasure, including a glove, which Tobias told me would store one weapon until recalled. It seemed useful, so I claimed it, with no trouble from the others.  We also found, and fought the leader of the fire newts.  The fight was actually harder than the salamanders, for some of the newts were riding strange lizard-bird look things that seemed to breather fireballs at us.  For some reason, Calvin tried to ride one, stupidly, and only narrowly managed to avoid being killed when it fell into another pit trap.

When it was apparent that we had cleared out everything to be found in the area, and found what treasure there was to be had, we left, after spending one more night in the old dwarf's chamber.  About the only good thing, was that the dwarf had some ancient ale kegged up, which was strong enough to fell a horse.  Needless to say, a drink of that was enough to calm me, and allow me to relax enough to go into reverie.

We left the very next day, and returned to Neverwinter in short order.

About a day out from the dwarven city, however, I began to feel…ill.  By nightfall, I could feel a fever in my blood.  I said nothing, praying that it would clear up by morning.  But when morning came, I felt worse, still. I stayed quiet the whole day, still hoping, vainly that I was mistaken…that whatever ailed me would go away.  It reminded far too much of all the times I was sick as a child…it is my greatest fear, to return to that sickly, frail creature I was…I think I would rather be dead.  

The others finally noticed, the morning after that, when I was unable to rise from my bedroll, shaking, and paler than ice.  Fortunately, it was not an illness, but a disease, probably from the otyugh that had attacked me.  Calvin, as a paladin, was able to remove the disease, and as soon as he cast the spell, I began to feel better.  By the time we arrived at the gates of Neverwinter, I felt fine…my fears, happily, unfounded.  

  Karden took his leave us shortly there after, after collecting his cloaks.  He thanked us profusely for our aid, and informed us that he would tell all his friends and fellow sages about us.  I suppose it was a good thing, seeing as we had certainly not come away empty handed.

We sold much of the things we had found, as well as the weapons and armor we had taken from the bodies of the newts and salamanders, for a fair sum.  The others quickly ran off to spend what they had.  I kept my money, however, in the hopes that someday, when ships are able, once more, to go to Evermeet, I will have enough coin to get passage there.

Rather than leave immediately for Waterdeep, we decided to stay, and look around Neverwinter for a while.  It was a pretty enough town, far cleaner and less crowded that Waterdeep, certainly.  I wandered around, seeing the sights, with Tobias, as usual, tagging along.  There were three bridges of particular interest…one was shaped like a Dolphin, one like a Wyvern, and the last was a sleeping Dragon.  All in all, the workmanship was nearly as good as elven, and I was impressed.  As I walked about, I noticed that most of the people in the city seemed to be human…or half-elven.  I felt bad for the half-elves, since there seemed to be so many of them…I especially felt bad for their mothers, who were all, no doubt, elven women who had been violated by human men…after all, it is inconceivably to think that any elven woman would willingly give herself to a human man…although I did hear a few stories…

There was a large garden in Neverwinter, which I found both peaceful, and comforting, after being underground for several days…after all, elves are not meant to walk in the dark earth, save for the drow elves, who, in truth, are not really elves any longer, anyhow.  Strangely enough, when I found a quiet spot, I felt compelled to dance, as I had not done since coming to Waterdeep. I drew out my blades, the two great swords, and borrowed Tobias's long and short swords as well.  The other seemed confused, and I felt not the need to enlighten him.  I placed the blades out in the pattern I wished, then bade Tobias play a song…an elven song that I knew from my childhood.  He took out his harp, thank the gods, and began to play what I wished.  I stripped down to my pants, and took my boots off, then stepped barefooted into the circle, and began to dance.  

During the dance, time lost meaning for me, a thing of which I am glad.  My concentration focused only on the dance and the blades…it is the one past time, as of yet, that Airk and I agree on…I like the movements, the music…he likes the danger and the skill required.  So we danced.  And when the music stopped, some time later, I looked up to see that a small crowd had gathered, people…mostly women and children, staring awestruck at me.  No small few handed Tobias coins, and praised both him and I for a magnificent performance.  Tobias offered me some of the coins, but I refused them, distaining the money, for I had not danced to entertain, but to calm my own soul.  Still, I felt a blush across my cheeks, as I drew my clothing back on, when I saw the faces of some of the women…saw the lust burning there.  I do not understand why they looked at me like that.  I wonder if they were not being cruel, for some reason…for I know that I am not the kind of man a woman wants…not an elven woman, and not a human woman.  No one wants a freak.  I left as quickly as I could, to get away from those gazes, and breathed easier, when I was free again.

We passed a few days in Neverwinter, when, about four days later, we heard a story in a bar, from farmers who lived just outside the city.  In a state of drunkenness, one of them told us that giants had come down from the hills and were stealing their cattle, that if the thievery kept up, he would be ruined. We managed to get the whole tale from him, after I used a spell to sober the fool, and directions to where the giants had been seen last.

So, in a state of mild boredom, we went after the giants. They proved to be easy enough pray, for they were easy to track, and foolish in their battle.  They fell for our tricks, and we had only mild difficulty in dispatching them.  Certainly nothing interesting enough that I mean to waste parchment writing about it.  We did find a good many of the stolen cattle alive, in a makeshift corral inside the seas-side caves where the giants had been staying…that, as well as a good many items that the giants kept as loot.  We kept the coin and treasure for ourselves…payment for our good deed, I suppose, but returned the cattle to the farmers, before returning, once again to Neverwinter, some two days later.  

Once back in the city, it wasn't longer than a day before people in the city seemed to know what we had done.  It wasn't long after that, that we received a summons from the man in charge of Neverwinter, one Lord Nasher.  We answered it, escorted by a few guards of the city up to his home.  We were lead in by an aging, human, butler, who seemed rather scornful of us, until he realized who we were.  He led us to a small garden behind the house, where we met Lord Nasher, who had been gardening at the time.  The human Lord thanked us for what we had done, said that hill giants were a problem in the area, and that we had stopped the problem before it had gotten any worse.  He offered us a reward for our deed…a rather unusual reward, but the others seemed happy of it.  He offered to pay the local wayfarer's guild to teleport us back to Waterdeep, so that we would not have to spend another ten-day traveling back…and waiting for a caravan to travel with, on top of that.  I had no problem with the idea, and Ranon seemed particularly glad of the idea, saying that he had some package to deliver to a store in Waterdeep.  So we accepted.

We left later that day to go to the guild, after gathering up all our things, the others collecting their mounts.  The guild was a fairly small building, and we were met at the door by a small, gnomish man.  He let us in, as soon as we mentioned that we were from Lord Nasher.  He led us down several flights of steps, to a large room beneath the guild house, with an arcane circle inscribed on the floor.  He then teleported all of the large animals, including Calvin's horse, and Hank's foxes, into the room with us, weighed the whole group together, and wrote the total down, saying that that would be the bill to be sent to Lord Nasher.  A moment later, he cast the spell necessary to activate the teleport circle, and we entered the field.  We arrived a dizzying instant later, a few miles outside of the city, Calvin immediately recognizing the road.  We were almost run over by a caravan that happened to coming down the road, but we got out of the way swiftly.  

We got inside the city walls, to find that Waterdeep was packed…ten times more crowded than I had ever seen it.  There were so many people on the roads that I felt claustrophobic, with them all pressing in me.  I kept pushing people from me, even as Calvin suddenly stated,

"Oh yes…the Mid-Summer's festival!  I nearly forgot," He went on to explain that the reason there were so many people here, was for the Midsummer's festival that would be happening in three days.  Now, I knew what Midsummer's was, though it goes by different names in other places.  It was usually a night spent in drinking and frolicking, and I gathered that in Waterdeep it would be no different.

The party eventually split up, each going our separate ways, agreeing to meet again at our usual tavern, across the street from the adventurer's guild, the day before the festival.  I went back to the loft where Tobias and I stayed.  The old man who owned the house greeted me warmly, and I mentioned that I had not died.  He laughed.  I dropped off everything that was not necessary for me to carry, mostly my gear and my weapons, since one is not allowed to carry weapons around in Waterdeep unless they are peace-bonded, and I see no reason to carry around two great swords, anyhow.  I did, however, decide to keep my glove on, seeing as the magic item contained my great axe…and it would be easy to retrieve…should I need it.

I immediately went down to the shop, and told my employer, Brian, that I was back, and began working.  Later in the day, where the forge closed down for the night, I went over to the temple to see Celedor.  He seemed glad to see me, and we spoke at length over everything that had occurred since I last left.  I explained that I was still having trouble with Airk.  He reminded me, once again, that it would take time and patience on my part.  He suggested, that one of the ways I might rid myself of Airk, was to stop allowing people to call me by that name.  He said that answering to two names could be contributing to my mental instability.  I recoiled at the idea, though, explaining to him that it would not be appropriate to allow N'Tel Quessir to use my elven name…besides, I added sneeringly, they probably wouldn't even be able to pronounce it.  Celedor smiled, and said that I might find myself surprised, as I had with the dwarf who could speak elven.  He told me that it was my choice, of course, but that it was his advice to me.  I replied that I would think on it, more.

It is Midsummer's night, and I find myself, not out drinking and enjoying myself, as I was ordered to do, but here, in my loft, writing.  I am coward, and how I hate myself for it.  I can hardly believe the lack of strength and courage I displayed this day.  It makes me sick to think of…  I shall explain from the start, though.

The day before the festival, my boss, Brian, approached me at the forge, and told me that the forge would be closed for the festival, that I should go out and enjoy myself.  I shrugged.  It did not matter to me either way.  He saw this, and sighed.

"You need to get out more, do something besides work, Airk."  I stiffened, thinking I was being insulted, somehow.

"I thought you were glad of my being a hard worker," I sated, not looking up.

"I am, but still…you know what they say, all work and no play…" he sighed again.  "Look, take the rest of the day off, go sign up for a few of the competitions they'll be having tomorrow.  Have some fun…try not to be so serious all the time."  He slapped me on the shoulder, and walked off again.  With a sigh, I put my hammer and tongs away, took my apron off and put out the fire.  

I went down to where people were signing up for the contests, as Brian had instructed, and signed up for three of them.  A footrace in the morning, swords in the early afternoon, and an axe throw just before evening.  

I met with the others later.  No one was being very talkative.  Calvin wasn't there, still at the church, no doubt.  Ranon asked what we had all been doing, saying that he'd been hiding from all of the people in the city.  I laughed…called him a coward, and made some cutting remarks, in elven, which Tobias chuckled at.  I laughed at Ranon for being a coward, when I should have directed the insult at myself.  Even now, I can feel Airk raging at me for what I've done this time…

The next morning, I went to each contest, wandering about through the people-packed street.  I came in second in the footrace, beaten by another warrior, like myself, who looked very much like a Ruathym warrior, only with dark hair instead.  My prize was some silly little silver statue that I will probably sell later for some coin.  I did horribly at the sword-fighting contest…I accidentally threw my sword, during my first fight. I was so shocked at my slip, that I stood there, staring, as my sword skewered a person in the audience, and my opponent, a wet-nosed, human boy put his sword to my chest, crowing about how he'd won.  A moment later, the later sitting next to the man I killed, exclaimed that he had been a thief, even as she pulled her purse out of his hands.  I was certainly surprised when the woman ran out to me, and thanked me for my quick actions…as though I'd thrown the sword at the man on purpose.  She gave me a kiss on the cheek, leaving me so bewildered, that I didn't even care that I had lost.  I did knock the annoying boy out, with a sharp right to the nose.  He wasn't so cocky with a broken nose…

The axe-throwing contest was much better for me, and I ended up winning it, along with the prize, a well-made hand-axe.

I wandered around, checking out a few of the other contests, and shows that were being performed.  The pie-eating contest was amusing, seeing as a group of Faerie dragons got to the pies before the contest could begin.  I could hear their laughter, even as the contestants protested.  I was highly amused…I hadn't seen a Faerie dragon, or any other kind of Fae for that matter, since Evermeet, and forgot how much I had enjoyed their antics…so long as they weren't directed at me that is.  

I caught Hank's performance at the archery contest…which was as disastrous as my own performance in the sword fight…he ended up being distracted by something, and shooting one of the judges…oops.

Night fell…Tobias took off to play at a noble's party that he'd been hired for.  The dwarves went off to points unknown, and I hadn't seen Calvin all day.

Left to my own devices, and unable to work, or do much else to occupy myself, I went out to a bar and had a few drinks.  

I was wandering around idly, watching the festivities, listening to the music and laughter…and missing Evermeet something fierce.  I wasn't paying any attention to where my feet were taking me.

I looked up to see that I was in dock ward, just as a voice from behind me called out,

"Elf!"  I ignored it, not wanting to deal with anyone at the moment…but the other persisted.

"Elf!  Whassa matter?  You a coward?!  Turn around!"  I turned, to see a large, ugly, half-orc man, who seemed drunker than I was.  

"Thass right, you sissy!  Fight me, you girl!"  He shouted.  Now, all I wanted to do was to be left alone to my thoughts, but the damned creature was just spoiling for a fight, and even on the best days, Airk…I mean, I don't like being insulted…not by anyone.  So I strode back, determined to give the piece of orc-loving scum, what for.

I never saw it for the trap it was…I was foolish, and stupid …but then again…when have I ever been anything but naïve about the world?  He hit me, before I was ready, and I grew enraged…  I snapped the fingers of my left hand, summoned forth my axe, from the glove, where I had magically hidden it.  I cut into him just once, before he turned and fled into a nearby alley.  I did not think as I chased after him, so angry as his unprovoked attack, was I.  He was waiting for me, at the back of the alley, a weapon of his own, now readied…and I wondered, briefly, where it had come from.  I drew back my axe to attack again, when my weapon was violently wrenched from my hands by some one who had come up behind me…some one who was taller by me, by at least a hand span.  I jerked out the only other weapon I had with me…a piddling dagger, and turned to look up at my new enemy.  Where the one had been half-orc…this one had to be part ogre, he was just that large and ugly.  I stabbed him once, in the stomach…he laughed at the wound, as though I did little more that scratch him.  I saw no others, but some how, I felt that there were more than these two in the alley, with me.  At the time, I did not know why I was being set upon…whether they were bandits, or what…but I knew that this attack had been planned, knew it even in my rage.  I knew I was outnumbered…and outmatched, without my axe.  I reached out with my mind, to find Sanhadnrian, whom I knew was nearby, and gave him a mental image of Calvin.  I knew that my familiar would find the paladin, and that Calvin would know, upon seeing Sanhandrian, that something was wrong.  Though I had little hope that Calvin would reach me in time, he would at least know to look for me.  

The half-ogre one had my weapon resting casually on his shoulder.  I could have…should have made an attempt for it…even though it would have meant leaving myself open to attack from behind. I should have done anything other than what I did.  

I ran.

I wrested control away from Airk…from my rage…and I ran from a battle.  I am a coward, and the wounds I received I deserved for my cowardice, though they burn sorely.

I heard the ones who attacked me shouted and gave chase, the sound of heavy boots hitting the cobblestones behind me.  I knew I was fast…but they were both of a height…they could be fast too.  I tried to think where I was, where the closet place I could go where there was an ally…a weapon.  Calvin and Tobias were far too far away…and I knew not where the dwarves were.  The guilds were closed for the night…and the tavern where I usually met the party members was many miles of streets off.  Then I remembered…the Hidden Blade…Lord Elaith's tavern, was but a few streets from where I was.  

I don't know how I managed to hold my pace so long, with the fatigue from after raging upon me. I felt only a mild sting when the first arrow stuck my from behind.  It pierced my left shoulder…painful, but not enough to slow me.  A second and third arrow hit me in quick succession…one in the middle of my back, one slightly to the side…I could feel that one drive into me deep enough to hit my ribs…had it been but a fraction lower it might have killed me.  I kept running…ignoring the pain, though it felt as though my back was aflame with it.  I knew my only chance was to get to a street with people on it, and hope that those chasing me…and there were now more than two sets of boot steps… would not attack with witnesses about.  A few more arrows missed their mark, as I turned a corner, and after a moment, as I ran towards the sound of voices, I heard the sounds of my attackers fade.  I did not slow, charging onward, and into a street crowded with drunken partygoers and revelers.  A few guardsmen saw me, but I did not stop.  It only took a moment or two for me to reach the Hidden Blade.  I pushed the door open, breathing hard, blood from my wounds dripping from my soaked tunic.  The bar tender was the same from before, and I saw recognition flare in his expression.

"Lord Elaith!" I shouted, hoping that the elf was there. I looked to the barkeeper. "A weapon!" I demanded.  "I need a weapon!"  Before the man could do anything, Lord Elaith came striding out from a back room, looking calm, but ready for a fight.  His expression never wavered when he saw me, dripping blood on the floor of his tavern, but he reached behind the bar, and brought a sword forth and handed it to me, even as he drew his own sword from his belt.  

"What has happened?" he asked calmly.

"Attacked," was all I replied, as I strode back the way I came, meaning to go back and fight…anything to sooth the sting of my cowardice.  Lord Elaith was following me, and I felt a surge of gratefulness to him.  He was an elf, of my rank, though he certainly had far more honor and position that I…yet he came with me, to help me, with no explanations.  

I made my way back through the crowd, only to find that the guardsmen, who had seen me, were blocking off the road from whence I had come.  The looked up when I walked up, demanding to pass.  They blanched at the sight of the arrows sticking out of my back, and their voices rose in a babble, as they tried to question me as to what had happened.  I followed my own blood trail back to the last place I had heard them.  My axe was lying on the ground, but of my attackers, there was nothing…my few tracking skills availed me little, for they had vanished.  I went all the way back to the alley where they had attacked me, again, nothing.  I slammed the wall, angrily, but it did little to improve my situation, save bruising my hand.  

I tuned back to Lord Elaith, who was still with me, ignoring the guardsmen, who had also been following.  

"I apologize for dragging you into this, Lord Craulnober," I ground out.  " It appears the one's who attacked me have run as well," I handed him the sword back.  "It will not happen again."

Lord Elaith shook his head.

"Do not worry about it, Nightstar.  What else was there for me to do but offer what aid I may to a fellow Teu-Tel 'Quessir?  Perhaps, though, you should go get those wounds looked at, and I will hear the story tomorrow, when you come and explain what has happened."  I nodded, still fuming, even as there was the sound of hooves approaching.  I looked up, to see Calvin riding up, at a fast clip.  He must have ridden hard, indeed, to have arrived from the temple in so short a time.  Sanhandrian was perched atop Calvin's horse's head, clinging to one of the ears.  My familiar immediately scurried down, and up onto my shoulder.

"What has happened, Airk?" Calvin called down, looking with suspicion upon Lord Elaith, as though my fellow noble was somehow responsible.

"I was attacked.  Lord Craulnober gave me aid," I stated as I started walking away.  The guardsmen pestered me again for answers, and I told them that if they wished information, they could find me at work, on the morrow at Brian's forge.  

Calvin pestered me, the whole way to the church, and I gave him enough information to shut him up, though I was having a bit of a time concentrating, with three arrows in my back, losing a bit more blood with each step.  I think Calvin would have followed me into the church, had I not informed him that humans were not meant to be in an elven church.  He left me alone.

The priests of Corellon that were there quickly removed the arrows…an agonizing process to be sure, but I made no sound, gave no sign of my weakness…then healed me enough to stop the bleeding.  They would have healed the wounds further, but I would not allow them.  The pain and discomfort of their healing, the scars that would be left would serve as an appropriate reminder of my cowardice.  That I dared run from a battle…

My foster father would have said that there is no dishonor in retreat from an enemy that would surely slay…but I feel nothing of honor for doing so…I feel weak.  I hate weakness…especially in myself.  Though I wish Airk gone…the very idea of becoming what I was once, curdles my stomach.  Celedor says that Airk is no more than a part of myself that I have given a name…that Airk's temper, is my temper, that his strength is mine as well…yet as much as I want the part off him that speaks gone from me…I fear to revert, should I fully banish him from my thoughts.  Airk is not a coward…but Keledrial…

I know not what to think anymore.

After I was healed enough, I went down to the tavern across from the adventurer's guild, hoping to have a drink to numb myself into a stupor.  

It was not to be.

I saw that something had happened, immediately upon entering.  There wounded everywhere, familiar faces, and unfamiliar, too.  Ranon was moving about, healing whom he could.  Tables and chairs were broken, as though from a bar fight, but I sensed whatever had happened was something more ominous than that.  Since no one was wounded to the point of death…except for the bar keep…who was dead…his beheaded body being dragged out by several members of the watch, I picked up a table and an unbroken chair and sat down.  While I waited for Ranon to notice me, both Calvin and Tobias entered the room.  Tobias was dressed in nice clothing, that he had changed into for his performance…but there was blood on him…blood that, for once, I had not put there.  His face was bruised, like Ranon's…as though he'd been hit, repeatedly.  They both saw me, and pulled up chairs, as well.  Tobias grabbed a few bottles of liquor from the now untended bar, and clunked them onto the table.  I opened one up, and took a long drink, not even bothering with a glass.  A moment later, Ranon joined us. Calvin was first to speak.

"What happened here?" he asked.  Ranon explained, in a loud, angry tone, that a group of men had come into the bar and started causing trouble.  The next thing he knew, the bar keep was dead, and a full-scale fight had erupted…except that the men who'd attacked were all carrying weapons.  Thought the bar was often filled with adventurers, few people there had more than a dagger on them, for weapons were not allowed to be worn in the city, especially during a festival, where drunken tempers could run high. Strangely enough, though, no one, save the bar tender was killed.  Ranon, of course, ranted on about how two of the men had held him down, and continued to hit him with a chair, even after he had surrendered.  

The Tobias explained what had happened to him.  The party he had been playing at had also been attacked.  A large group of men, who had been posing as guards for the party, had begun attacking guests.  Tobias had tried to run, but had been caught, and slammed repeatedly against a wall.  He had spoken with one of the men, who seemed to be in charge.  A large, blacked haired, bearded human…the leader had insinuated that the attack on the party was not the only attack that was happening…and that it had something to do with adventurers, and the guild.  

About halfway through the tale, Hank came in, looked beaten and battered, as the rest of us, save Calvin.  He quickly explained that the ranger's station, just outside of the city, where he stayed, had been attacked, as well, in the same fashion as the other attacks.  And in all four attacks, including my own, the attackers stopped abruptly, killed no one, and left, even though they had the advantage of numbers and surprise.  Though they probably could have killed all, only a small number was harmed…as though they were giving some sort of warning… taunting us.  Calvin, on the other hand, was not attacked, and had spent a peaceful evening at his temple, at least until Sanhandrian had shown up.  

The others pressed me for information, as well, but I gave little, my mood at the moment, worse than surly.

It was about then, that there was a huge explosion, from across the street.  We all rushed outside to the sight of the building that had housed the adventurer's guild aflame…already destroyed beyond repair by whatever had caused the explosion.  Within moments, members of the guard and the watch arrived, and began to try to put out the fire…not that it mattered…there was nothing left of the building to be saved.

We all went back into the tavern…in shock, I would imagine.  Perhaps it was the shock caused Ranon's tongue to be so loose…but I care not, for his insult was not to be borne.  I recall little of what was said to lead up to it, only that I recall saying something to Tobias about how he should go to the watch and explain that he may have seen the leader of whomever was behind these attacks, of which I suspect we will hear of more by tomorrow.  Then, I rose to leave, wearied beyond belief for the night, which had promised to be so good, and had turned out so dreadfully horrible.  Tobias rose with me, and at that moment, Ranon made some snide comment about how Tobias followed me around as though he were my "lapdog."   Both Tobias and I turned at the comment, enraged.  Tobias stalked up to Ranon and punched the dwarf square in the face, with more violence towards a "friend" than I had ever seen him show.  He spun, and walked out.  I grabbed in Ranon in a fury, by the front of his tunic.  Airk howled at me to slay the repugnant digger for the insult he dared deliver Tobias and myself. How dare a dwarf insult an elf?!  I reigned in control of our…my temper, though, and shook Ranon violently, then, hurled him at the wall, rather than tear his smelly head off, as was my first impulse.

I left, furiously shoving my way through the crowd.  I should have killed him…at least it would have been one less dwarf in the world…

I was about halfway to the loft, when I heard Calvin behind me, calling my name.  I kept walking.  To the hells with the dwarves, and the damned paladin, too, of he sided with them.  He was on horseback, though, and he caught up with me, kept up with me, as he began to speak, not caring whether or not I was listening.  He went on and on, about how I was acting the part of a child…imagine…about how I was taking the "so-called" insult too seriously…about how, if something weren't done, the party would not last.  I listened, and unwillingly snapped replies, when I though necessary.  The dwarves had delivered a deadly insult to myself, and to my fellow elf…I would not tolerate it.  Finally, I agreed to meet with the rest of the party, on the morrow, at a church for all gods who did not have a temple within the city, called the Plinth, after he had followed me up to my loft, and badgered me endlessly into promising.  I warned him, though, that if the damnable dwarf did not come up with a serious apology for his insult, that it would be the end, for me…and I know damned well, that out of the party, I am the strongest and fastest, and without me, they would all be weak… and fail.

Sometime later, Tobias came in, and a moment later, there was an incessant knocking on the trap door into the loft.  When Tobias did not answer it after a few moments, I shouted for him to do so.  Still, he did not answer it, and I grew angrier, yet.  I looked to him, from where I have been writing, in my corner of the loft, and said,

"Tobias, you will open that damned door and shut up the person on the other end, for if you do not, I will rage, and you will suffer the consequences!!"

Grumbling, Tobias got up from his pallet, and answered the door…once again it was Calvin, the damned, miserable human, whoreson…this time extracting a promise from Tobias to meet at the Plinth.

"Yes, fine, whatever…go the hells away!" Tobias all but shouted, and I knew he shared my anger and irritation over the things that had happened.

Finally, Calvin departed, and now, I go to sleep, if I can even manage reverie tonight, I am still so angry.  Until tomorrow…

I got up early to go to work, at first forgetting that things had changed drastically from yesterday.  My employer seemed surprised to see me in so early.  I noticed that he looked weary, for some reason.  He asked how my day had gone yesterday, and out of courtesy, and respect, I told him a brief description of what happened, as I began work.  He asked me if I wanted to take the day off, especially with my wounds, but I refused…my work would be my punishment.

As it was, I forgot to leave at noon to go to the meet Calvin and the others.  I think that I did not really wish to go, though, and so subconsciously forgot. At about 1230 or so, I heard a loud squawking outside.  It sounded familiar, so I went out to see what it was.  It proved to be Tobias' familiar…a hawk that had a name I cannot recall at the moment.  I then remembered what I'd promised, and so I left work early, rather unhappily.  

Now I cannot properly describe everything that went on at the church, for it was so bizarre, that I am still trying to consider everything.  Calvin and all the others were already there, and upon entering, Calvin made some remark about how I was late.  I shrugged my shoulders, and promptly went to the opposite side of the room from the dwarves, nearer to Tobias.  I noted that the room we were in was completely empty; save for a pitcher of ale, a few mugs, and some food, which was all sitting on the floor.  I wondered if Calvin had not ordered all of the furniture removed so that we would not kill each other…not that I consider any of the others of a strength, or skill enough to kill me, save by unfair means.  

Calvin then preceded to act very…un-Calvinish, is the best way I can think to describe his behavior.  He began taunting us all, calling us children, who had nothing better to do than squabble, and take insult at the slightest thing.  He went on to explain, that this was not the first disagreement he seen between elves and dwarves, that he had been in charge of men when he'd worked in the watch…that he'd seen more than one group of elves and dwarves resolve their differences, even after fights more grievous than the one we'd had last night.  He claimed that if the party was to survive, as a group, that we must reconcile our differences, and act like grown folk.  He turned to Tobias and I, and asked,

"Are not the elves famed for their vaunted patience, and wisdom…I see none in the two of you."  I controlled my temper, though I wanted to hit the human…all though, I think that that might have been his intent, all along…to focus our anger away from each other, and onto him…why I cannot say, for their can be nothing good about having four people angry at you…especially, we four.

Then he turned to the dwarves and made some similar remark that had then grumbling.  Finally, Ranon spoke up…his complaint towards Tobi9as and I was nearly laughable…even if it happened to be mostly true.  The dwarf claimed that he was annoyed that Tobias and I constantly spoke our own language to each other, when we knew that neither of the two dwarves could understand us.  He claimed that he suspected we were saying derogatory things about them…laughing at them, in front of their faces.  Now granted, Tobias and I do that frequently enough, though more often than not, we are not specifically speaking about Ranon and Hank, but the dwarven race in general.  Tobias laughed at Ranon complaint, but I turned on the dwarf, speaking angrily, though I had meant not to address him until an apology that I felt was sincere was given for the insult.

"Look you…I do not care if your feelings are hurt because you think we speak about you in our language.  So we do…and you do the same to us, in your dwarven tongue.  I do not speak it, Tobias understands it well enough and can tell me what you say.  It is the nature of the People and the dwarves to fight…"

"All I want is for you two to speak common, at least…it's only fair," Ranon grumbled.

"I do not care what is fair," I nearly shouted.  "The humans forced me from speaking my own language for over four decades!  I will not allow a dwarf to do the same!!"  Ranon took at step back at my anger, but did not back down.

"I ain't asking you to stop speaking your language…just speak one we understand, when you're with us."

"So learn elven," I hissed, "Then you will understand.  I say what I must in common…and I will speak in whatever other language I will.  I will not follow and order given by a dwarf!"

The argument went back and forth for a bit, until Ranon actually agreed to try to learn elven…though it was Tobias who agreed to teach…I would never lower myself to such a task.  Then there was another argument over the matter of the insult… Ranon claimed that he had not insulted me…imagine!  That he'd only insulted Tobias…I informed him that he had, indeed, insulted me, both by insinuating that I would ever have a creature such as a "lap dog," and by insulting a fellow Tel' Quessir.  Finally, Ranon seemed to see my reason, and did apologize to Tobias and I.  Then there was a bit of silence, for though some had been talked out, there was still the separation, the uneasiness between the elves and the dwarves.

Then Calvin began acting like an idiot.  He began challenging us all to fight, calling us children who could not get over the views taught us by our parents.  He hurled insults at each of us, yet none of us attacked, as he goaded, so confused were we by his strange behavior.  Finally, the paladin left the room, stating once again that we had to learn to work together, and stop acting like brats.

He slammed the door behind him, and was gone.

It only took a bit of time for us to realize that he had barred the door from without, and meant us to stay confined in the room until we "worked out our differences."  We didn't need to work out anything…elves are taught such differences at a young age, and I assume that it is likewise for the dwarves. Tobias and I worked well enough with the dwarves, and they with us…there will always be friction between us, for it is in our natures…for all the history of the world, the two races never agree for long…and none of Calvin's taunting will change us.

But, I suppose, in a way, his plan worked well enough, for we were forced to work together to break down the damnable door to get out, and by the time that task was done, we were all about ready to give Calvin the beating he'd been begging for.

Needless to say, we did not go through with it, though we threw a great deal of threats at the meddling human, when we found him waiting outside for us, mounted on his horse.

With the hard feelings out of the way…at least for the moment, we returned to our usual bar…which was now under new ownership…that did not take long…to discuss what our course of action against the people who'd attacked us should be.

       The problem was, that there was little enough information to be found.  It was decided, that the others would go and speak with the watch, and with the noble who'd hired Tobias the previous night.  They would ask if there had been other attacks, and ask if Tobias' employer had known any of the men, since he had hired them as guards for the evening.  I told them that I had to return to work, but that when I got off, I would go speak with Lord Craulnober, and see if he knew anything.  I knew that Lord Elaith had been in the city for some time, and might, perhaps, have contacts that we did not.  So it was agreed, and we went our separate ways, vowing to meet on the morrow, with whatever information that we had managed to garner.  

       I returned to work.  Brian ended up forcing me to leave early, when he noticed that there was blood seeping through the back of my tunic, where one of the arrow wounds had reopened.  He told me to go find a cleric.  I did nothing of the sort.  Ranon and Tobias, both, had tried to heal my wounds earlier, and I had refused them as well…punishment.

       So I went back down to the Hidden Blade to speak with Lord Elaith.  Fortunately he was still there, though his barkeeper had stated that Elaith usually wasn't at the tavern this time of day.  With no prompting, I explained to Elaith all that had happened last night.  He gave me the information that it had happened all over the city…that it seemed nearly all who'd had a membership at the adventurer's guild, had been attacked nearly simultaneously. That was both enlightening, and disturbing.  It meant that whatever had happened had been planned, had required a great deal of manpower, and a great deal of time to ready.  It had been no random attack, nor had it been focused on just my party.  A that point, Elaith asked me if he could get me anything…a drink, some food…a healing potion, he added the last.  I was beginning to get annoyed with people, even Lord Elaith, trying to force me to heal myself.  I took the drink, and snapped that the wounds were healed enough, thank you.  Lord Elaith did not seem bothered by my outburst, though…perhaps amused, though it showed only in his eyes.  

       So I asked him for help, to see if he could find out any more information of the people who done the attacking.  He agreed easily enough, saying that he would have looked into it anyhow, even had I not asked.  I rose to leave, after thanking him, asking that, if he uncovered anything, to send word to Brian the Sword master's forge, for that was where I worked when in town.  He claimed he would, and I left.

       I stopped briefly at the temple, to speak with Celedor.  He gave me a bit of counsel, and once again, told me that it was time I stopped using the name Airk, and reverted to my own name once more…that he believed it the next step I must take in my recovery.  I balked at the idea, though…still unwilling to let go.  I do not know what I shall do.

       I spent the rest of the night finishing up the tiny mithral shirt I was making for Sanhandrian.  I meant to teach my familiar how to wear it, so that he would be better protected.  Sanhandrian does not seem fond of the idea, though.

       The others turned up no information of importance…at least nothing that I had not already learned.  Tobias' employer had not know of who the people were, only that he'd hired them as temporary guards.  The watch knew only that the guild had been destroyed by some explosive gnomish creation called smoke-powder, which was, evidently, an illegal substance in Waterdeep, and that nearly all of the guild members had been attacked…but not one of them had been killed, strangely enough.  There were no other leads for us to check out…all we could do was wait and hope something turned up.

       I went back to work, and it wasn't even a day before Tobias showed up at the shop, claiming that Calvin had gotten word from the church of Lathlander that the priests which to speak with us on a matter of urgency.

       At the church, we learned that the paladin who had been involved with the murders, Alexander Brightstar, had been wounded while trying to atone for his action.  Unfortunately, he had been wounded by a creature called a hag in the Marsh of Dead men, a day or two out from Waterdeep, and whatever the hag had done to him, no magic had been able to cure.  The paladin was lingering on near the edge of death, and he had asked that we remove the evil that he had failed to do so.  The priests told us that the only thing they knew of that would cure Alexander was item that the hag would have on her…a heart stone.  They asked if we would go retrieve it.  Since the hag was an evil creature, and Calvin seemed to feel some kinship for the other paladin, we agreed…besides, it was better than sitting around, waiting.  

       We left that afternoon, seeing as how the situation required that we act quickly, if we wished to save the paladin.  Before doing so, though, I went back to work and explained, once again why I had to leave.  I hardly know why Brian continues to employ me, seeing as I am so rarely at the forge, lately…but I will not complain that he does, for working the forge calms me. Before I left, I told him that there might be a message arriving for me, from Lord Elaith, and asked him if he would hold onto it for me, if it did.  I could not help but notice the strange look that came over Brian's face when I said Elaith's name…he looked as though he wanted to ask me something, but I was in a hurry, and gave him little enough time to do so, once he'd agreed to hold the message. 

       Now, there is not much I can write about what happened out at the marsh, or the battle with the hag, for I was in a rage, nearly the entire battle.  We found her lair easy enough…a spot of fairly solid, dry land, about a half a day into the marsh.  She was probably one of the most hideous things I had ever had occasion to set eyes upon, her stringy hair, foul colored skin, dagger-like teeth, and disgusting smell were all stomach turning…I could hardly even tell that she had once been a woman.  I had cast my spells before entering the fight…to heighten my strength, make truer my first attack, and better protect myself from her attack.  Then I roused my self to a rage, and the battle is little more than a blur from there.  I know that I, and the others were all wounded…that the hag fought with power and trick at her command.  There is a terrible, yet now-healing wound where my shoulder meets my neck…apparently, the hag's teeth were as sharp as they looked, and she'd bitten me, tearing out flesh.  Most of the others have similar wounds…Tobias was terribly upset, for the hag had bitten his hand, and he was worried about his playing ability and appearance, moaning that he would have to wear gloves forever, to hide the unsightly wound.   We did manage to retrieve the heart stone, as well as the bit of treasure that the hag had hidden under a pile of bones…there was an axe that was warm with magic, that I claimed, and great deal of a metal called ice steel, which the others wished for me to fashion into all sorts of different items, which I will most likely do when I have time.

       I was not awake for much of the trip back to Waterdeep, for I had been badly wounded, and the hag had, apparently, cast some manner of spell on me that had drained away my strength.  Needless to say, when I awoke, I was…unhappy.  I kept the nature of what had happened to myself, for I did not wish the others to know how weak I was at the time…so weak that I could not even lift my sword.  

       We returned to the temple, however, and after the priests used the heart stone to heal the paladin, they offered to heal the wounds that the rest of us had taken…Rather than that; I had them remove the damage that had been caused by the spell.  I cannot tell you how relieved I was when the strength returned to my arms.  I know truly, now, that I would rather be dead than weak.  

       When I went to work the day after returning…and we'd been out of Waterdeep for five days, apparently, Brian immediately gave me a sealed letter, which proved to be from Lord Elaith.  I opened the seal, and read the letter, which stated that he had found a lead for me, and that I should meet him at the Hidden Blade as soon as I returned.  Brian did not seem at all surprised when I left immediately, merely shaking his head, and wishing me luck in catching the bastards.  I find that I admire Brian…  

       So I went to meet with Lord Elaith.  The lead he had wasn't a great one, but it was better than naught at all.  Apparently, a series of robberies occurred at the same time as some of the attacks…as though, they too, had been coordinated.  The guard knew who had committed the robberies, as the person was already wanted for similar crimes.  What Elaith had found, though, was that the perpetrator of the robberies had been seen several hours before everything began, deep in conversation with several men…all of whom matched Tobias' descriptions of the men he'd seen at the party.  Elaith had also managed to learn, somehow, that the criminal, an ugly, scarred human by the name of Mario Navarro, had left the city by way of the north gate nearly a day ago.  That meant that if we moved quickly, there might still be time for Hank to pick up the tracks and follow them.  Hank may be a dwarf, and an unusual one at that, but I've learned in matters of the woods and tracking, he is incomparable to anyone I've met since leaving my homeland.  If anyone could pick up the tracks, Hank could.

       I rose quickly after being given as many of the specifics as Lord Elaith knew.  I bowed low to him, and thanked him for his assistance.

"Once again, I am in your debt, Lord Craulnober," I stated.  He merely smiled.

       "Do not worry about Keledrial Nightstar.  Had you not asked, I very likely would have gotten involved, anyhow.  You are saving me the trouble of tracking this criminal down. Sweet water and bright laughter, my friend."  I was momentarily startled at the phrase, for I had not heard the phrase of elven leave-taking in so long, that I'd nearly forgotten it.  I shook my head.

       "I am in your debt," I repeated, then left, as quickly as I could.  I knew there was no much time if we wanted a chance of catching up.

       I tracked down Tobias easily enough, for he has a series of favored haunts, where he whiles away the day drinking and playing music.  I dragged him away from his performance, and told him to round up the others, have them ready themselves to leave for a possibly long trip, and meet me at our usual place as soon as possible, that I had information we needed.  To his credit, he did not badger me with questions, but went off to fetch the others.

       I returned to work and explained where I meant to go to Brian.  He did not seem upset at my going, all though, as I said, it seems that I am more often away than at work…but then, I did warn him of that when he hired me, so perhaps it is only what he expects.  He surprised me though, showing once again that he had some thought for my welfare, for some reason, when he bade me take care, for he would not wish to lose a good smith.  I find myself confused often, as of late…why a human I hardly know should care a whit about me seems odd…especially since he cannot possibly be making much money on a smith who is never here.

       I returned to the loft and gathered up what weapons I felt I would need, as well my traveling gear.  I took some gold as well, meaning to give it to the man who owned the house, to make certain that he continued to hold the room for Tobias and I until we returned, whenever that might be.  Imagine my surprise when he refused it, saying that we were already paid up 'til Nightal.  I asked him how, and he replied that a messenger had come while we were away, with a note and a bag of platinum.  The note wasn't signed, but stated that the coin was to pay for my lodging.  I asked if I might have the note, and Hacasian shrugged, uncaring as he handed it over. The script was in common, so I had a little trouble reading it…I find that despite Airk's…I mean my distain for learning to read languages other than elven, I am slowly learning common, for the language is really so simple, and I see it everyday on signs, and whatnot…I am learning it whether I wish to or not…and I am beginning to find it is not such a bad thing, for I do not wish to appear ignorant…besides...it is fairly embarrassing to always have to ask others to read things for me. 

       Getting back to my point, the note was in common, and the script was neat and even, but did not seem to match the hand of anyone I knew.  I asked Hacasian about the messenger, but he only stated that it was a street boy…probably there'd been more coin in the bag, but the boy had most likely helped himself to a bit extra.  So I have this mystery…someone has paid for my lodging…and I could think of no one who would do such thing.  It was a great deal of money, as well.  I do not like to be beholden to anyone…especially a faceless person.  Yet, I can't think how I might go about finding out who has done this.  Strange indeed.  I knew that it could not be the party members…for one thing, nearly all of them, besides myself were broke…they spent their money as quickly as though they though it might evaporate in their purses. I keep mine, seeing as I have notion how much I will need to return to Evermeet…I spend only on things that I truly need.  And for another thing…the only one who knows where we live is Calvin, and frankly, he is far too busy tithing to his church and buying shiny armor to have any money to spare…so who could it be?  

       Ah well, a mystery to ponder for another time, as I must go meet the others at the inn now, so that we may begin the first step in tracking down the ones who attacked us, and so many others, as well.  Besides, if we don't move quickly, some of the other wounded adventurer's might find the same lead and beat us to the criminal…and I want my revenge first.

       So I met with the others, and they were ready to go as soon as they heard what I had to say.  Hank seemed a bit doubtful of finding the appropriate trail, seeing as so many people come in and out of Waterdeep on a daily basis, but after a few hours, he did manage to find what seemed a likely trail, headed north, and a bit to the east.  It was better than nothing, so we began to track.

       It has been nearly a ten day now, and we are still on the trail, which is rather confusing.  The one we are tracking sometimes seems to be alone, and sometimes there are other boot prints with his, yet there is no sign of where these others came from or where they go.  Hank has been doing most of the tracking, although I do a little as well.  His animals, the small fox, and his newer one, a dire fox, help by scenting.  We know we are no more than a day behind the criminal, and though we could catch up if we traveled through the night, the others seem reluctant to push the horses.  Needless to say, that I probably slow the party, for I do not ride a horse, unless forced to ride pillion with someone…needless to say it does not happen often.  Ranon flies, of course, and Hank rides his dire fox.  Still, I can run easily enough to keep up, so we still go at a fair pace, when the criminal is on foot.

       Such a battle! I still feel the rush of energy shaking my hands…we have fought, and defeated a dragon!  A small one, mind you…probably no more than a juvenile, or young adult…but a dragon, nonetheless…and an evil one at that.  Earlier that day I had warned Ranon that his flitted about in the air would cause him to come to grief…but I hardly expected that my words would prove true so quickly.  We never saw it coming.  The dragon attacked much like a bird of prey…it flew down, straight from above, and it used its claws to bear Ranon to the ground.  Fortunately for the dwarf, the dragon released its claws, giving Ranon time to scramble away.  The dragon, now on the ground, was a target that I could deal with.  It took almost no time for us to react to the threat.  The dragon could have flown off, but it seemed bent on its prey…us.  It was a black, midnight scales seeming to absorb the sun's light…and I managed to cast a spell to better my aim, just before I drew my weapon, and let the rage take me, even as I called out to Corellon, for his favor.

       The only thing that I truly dislike about raging is that I have so little memory of what happens during a fight, save for blurred images, and vague recollections.  This would have been one battle that I would have wished to recall every detail of, that is for certain…after all, is it not the goal of every man who adventurers to defeat a dragon of evil nature?  So many die in the effort, and yet we triumphed!  I know that the creature was vicious…that its attacks were damaging, for even now my clothing is near ruined from the acidic nature of its breath, and my shoulders ache with healing wounds from its claws…yet we prevailed…more than that, though, it was my attack, a mighty blow with my new axe, recovered from the lair of the hag we had defeated, that felled the beast!  The dragon fell, dead…the head of the creature was small enough that Tobias could put it in his bag of holding, so I took it as my trophy of the defeat.  The others set about removing others bits of the carcass…mostly scale and a bit of hide.  Hank wanted to know if I might be able to tan the hide and make it into leather armor.  I am not certain, for I have never worked with dragon leather…but I can try…when I get the chance that is.  Fortunately, the relatively airless space of a bag of holding will keep the skin from being ruined before I get a chance to work with it.

       We reached the small town of Red Larch a few days later.  We did manage to discover that our quarry had been there but a day before us, from a woman who owned a tavern in the town.  She was angry, for Navarro had caused a brawl, and then skipped out on his tab.  She seemed to know we were adventurers, and stated that if we caught up with him, would me mind brining him back so that she might take the price of his bill out of his hide?  The others seemed to think the concept amusing, but Ranon, for some odd reason took paid the bill out of his own pocket, and stated that now Navarro owed him.  Either way, the woman seemed content.  I paid little enough attention, since I did not se the point of stopping.  For some reason, Calvin and a few of the others wanted to speak with some of the farmer's that had been in the bar when Navarro had been causing trouble.  I don't really know why.  Rather than worry about it, since it seemed we were to spend the rest of the day in the town, I finished up Sanhandrian's armor.  

       The tiny chain shirt fit Sanhandrian well, but the minute I put it on him, my familiar was less than amused.  Through our magical bond, I sensed that he felt stupid about wearing the armor.  I tried to explain…or rather make him understand that the armor would protect him…giving him mental images of a cat biting him without armor, and he being hurt…then a cat biting him with the armor, and the cat breaking its teeth.  Sanhandrian was still not convinced…I suppose this will take a bit of time.  But I am determined to keep my familiar protected…after all, a familiar has a great deal of use…but the loss of a familiar by violent means can be…unpleasant, to say the least. I tried to placate Sanhandrian with a walnut, but he threw the thing back at me, and clicked his claws against the wood of the table.  Finally, I gave in, and took the armor off him after he let me know that he also didn't like the armor, since it pulled at his fur.  It will only be a temporary reprieve, until I can make some sort of undershirt for him…and then he will learn how to wear the damned armor…whether he likes it or not.

       Needless to say, the party members who saw me working with Sanhandrian must have thought I was mad, for they kept shaking their heads and giving me strange looks.  Well, to the nine hells with them anyhow…besides…I am mad, right?

       I gave up on the waiting, when night had fallen, and the others were getting nowhere.  The farmers had indeed fought with Navarro, but none of them knew which way he had gone.  Hank finally turned up from wherever he had been hiding all day, and I asked him if he felt our skills wouldn't be better served by trying to pick up Navarro's trail by way of tracking.  He agreed, and we left.  

       It took no more than an hour or two to find the trail, which continued on in roughly the same direction as before. I went back to retrieve the other idiots, only to run into them looking for us.  We set off then and there, even though it was already dark, seeing as we had lost nearly an entire day of the chase.      

       We tracked Navarro across Stonebridge, which I was only mildly impressed by.  The bridge itself was a mile long, spanning a river.  As we crossed it, Tobias mentioned that the bridge was of ancient dwarven make, and that for some strange reason…probably magical, the bridge had pinned the river, and that in all the years that had passed, the river had never shifted from its place under the bridge.  It was mildly interesting, only in that it was so rare for dwarves to be able to produce any form of magic that was not clerical, or in the form of a weapon.  

       We quickly discerned that Navarro's destination was the High Forest.  We were nearly two days behind him because we had stopped, and because of the battle with the dragon, but his tracks were still clear, and there was still more than a little chance to catch him.

       We lost the trail as we approached a small village, just on the outskirts of the forest.  The inhabitants were mostly human, and they looked up from their work in the fields around the town, and waved as we passed.

       When we got into the village proper, a place called Grassguard, the first thing I noticed was that most of the buildings had wanted posters of Navarro up on them.  I guess he had already caused some trouble.

       My guess proved correct, when we were quickly sought out by the mayor of the town, a small halfling man, believe it or no.  His name was Mayor Rodder, and he questioned us about why we were there, not that they didn't like travelers, he was quick to add.  We explained that we were tracking Navarro for crimes he had committed in Waterdeep, and because he had been seen in the company of the group of people involved in the attacks on the guild.

       Rodder was only too happy to tell us everything that he knew.  Yes, he knew who Navarro was, and yes, the weasel had been seen.  Apparently, Navarro had not even paused in his march.  He had met up with a large group of bandits the day before, and the group had attacked and killed a small farming family to the north of the town, and raided the farm.  

       We thanked the mayor for the information, and immediately headed for the ruined farmstead to pick up the trail once more. 

       It took us half a day to reach the place.  The ruin of the house and barn were still smoking from the fire, though there were several fresh graves, indicating that the slain had already been buried.  Looking at the ruined farm, I wondered briefly, if this was how the cities that I had raided on looked after we left…I imagined that it did, although we rarely burned homes or buildings…it was not good "business."   I felt disturbed that I did not feel more at seeing the sight.  Had I become so used to the sight of death and violence that I no longer felt sorrow or regret?  That is a frightening thought…I do not wish to become a conscienceless killer.  I am an elf, damnit…and yet I felt nothing more than casual interest…perhaps a bit of anger over the destruction.  I know that, as an elf, I should not be upset over the loss of human life…they are so short lived, it hardly makes sense to allow oneself to feel anything for them…and yet, I still think I should feel something…after all, I have a respect…perhaps even a bit of friendship towards Calvin, and he is a human…I just do not know what to think or feel anymore.  Life is a very confusing thing.  I do not really want to think on this subject further, anyhow.

       In any case, we picked up the trail easily enough, and followed it further, towards the woods.  The sky was beginning to cloud over, I noticed…it seemed as though a storm was brewing.  

       It was towards noon when we came across a strange sight…on the very edge of the woods, there was a ruined house…almost a mansion in size.  It was mostly boarded up, and the forest was beginning to take it back.  We probably would have passed it by had not we heard a cry come from within, even as we looked up to see the darkened sky open up with a volley of stinging rain.  Everyone ducked into the house, although I took my time walking in, letting the rain wash off some of the travel dust and dirt that had accumulated on my skin over the past week or so.  Needless to say, I was soaking wet by the time I got into the building…not that it bothered me much.

       The house was mostly empty, with bits of rotting furniture scatted here and there.  It did not take us long to find the person whose shout we had heard.  

       In an upstairs room we found him, a half-elf.  The room he was in was littered with wet, ruined parchment, candle stubs, empty inkwells and broken quills.  The half elf was seated on the floor scribbling notes onto another piece of paper, talking to himself.

       Curiosity drove me to ask what he was about.  He looked up at us, then began to babble madly about a song, about dead elves singing hellish music…hundreds of dead elves, enslaved somehow, about a ruined city in the woods, about witches who had stolen the "ghost lady's" harp, and about how being half-man had saved him from being trapped.  Then he seemed to see myself, and Tobias, and his eyes widened, as he screamed that we were elves, that we would go with them, that we would take him down with us.  We could get nothing more out of him after that, as he moaned and whimpered and went back to his desperate writing.

       The others all exchanged glances, and I saw Tobias swirl his finger about near his head…they thought the poor creature was mad…which was true enough, I suppose…but there was more to it than that, I felt.  He'd spoken of dead elves…enslaved elves…the very idea of such caused a feeling of dread in me. Something had driven the bard insane, for we'd heard about him the short amount of time we'd been in Grassguard…a month ago this bard…Morlaine, had been sane…but he'd gone into the woods and come back mad.  If there really was some sort of terror in the forest involving elves, I knew that I would have to convince the others to investigate with me. True, we were on a quest to catch Navarro, but he had gone into the woods…why not try to do two things at once?   If I meant to redeem myself to Corellon, what better way to prove it than to help the people?  Besides…I cannot bear the thought of any of my people suffering.  Yes, I will do what I must to convince the others.

       The rain finally stopped, after a long, thundering storm.  We set out immediately after it, having lost a few more hours of daylight.  Fortunately, we did not have to go far before we ran into a few of Navarro's "friends."  Bandits, that is, and not very good ones.  They attempted to attack us, but we cut down the group of them so quickly, I hardly think I took more than a scratch…not even enough to "accidentally" splatter some onto to Tobias, and listen to him whine that I'd ruined another set of his clothes…it is so very amusing to annoy him…

       I did manage to catch one of them, rather than killing him outright.  He did not really feel like talking at first, but a few times of being slammed into a tree, with the others whispering helpful hints, and warning the stupid little human about my terrible temper, soon convince him that it was wiser to answer my questions with all due haste, rather than anger me further.  He admitted that he was working for Navarro, and that we could find Navarro and the rest of the bandits…some 20 or so of them, at a ruined city a few miles down the trail, further into the woods.  Now, I had promised not to kill him if he answered my questions, and I did keep my word.  However, I did make life more difficult for him, as I was in a rather silly mood for some reason.  To that end, I had Tobias take off the man's boots and pants, but the boots onto the man's hand, and tie them on tightly, then I took his pants, put them over the man's head, and tie the legs around his neck…not tight enough to suffocate…just humiliate, when he inevitably ran across someone…I doubted that he would be able to remove either boots or pants on his own.

       As the man started to stumble away, I heard a faint giggle in the woods, just before Hank's dire fox, Celerity, bolted into the woods, in the direction of the giggle.  Hank took off, shouting for Celerity to stop.  The rest of us exchanged questioning glances, then we, too, proceeded to give chase.  

We wound up in a small clearing about a half a mile off the trail…the forest seemed less dark here…and the ominous feeling I'd had since entering the forest was gone here.  Everything seemed more natural, for some reason.  Celerity was seated in the center of the clearing, panting…several small lights buzzed around his head, tugging at his ears, and so forth.  It only took me a moment to realize that the little lights were pixies, flying about and laughing.  A few of them noticed us, and began to fly about us, chanting some words at us.  I listened carefully, and realized that the pixies were speaking a riddle to us, and probably wished for an answer.  The riddle was:

On metal I sleep, with rock on my side:

On air do I move, my fire's inside:

My blood will give life, my life will give death:

And you'll see your luck, when I catch my breath.  

       Now, as a child, another of my pastimes was reading books of riddles.  I thought back, and pictured the page in my mind, that had had that riddle on it.  I grinned as I returned the answer to it…

       "You are a dragon."  The pixie stopped their mad swirling, and began to hover in the air in front of us, clapping tiny hands.

       Since the pixies seemed din a good mood, and I knew them to be smart creatures, we asked them some questions.  Having answered their "great" riddle, they were all too happy to help…though they did seem to be having a bit of amusement by tugging at the dwarves' beards.  

       The pixies told us that they did, indeed know of Navarro and his men, and thought they were "bad people."  They explained that we could find them at their camp to the southwest; however, they added that the leader, Navarro had left camp a little while ago, and they had seen him headed towards a bog, nearby.  They mentioned that he looked nervous, giggling, and rolling about with laughter as they attempted to show us his expression.  

       The others would have been content with just that small amount of information, but there was a bit more I wanted to know.  So I asked the pixies about the "dead elves" Morlaine had spoken of.  Their expressions grew serious…or at least as serious as pixies could be.  They spun us a tale that I found I believed.  There had been an ancient elven city where the bandits were now camped…but long, long ago, the city had been destroyed by some evil creature called the Ygwannach.  They did not know how the creature had been summoned, only that it was evil, and had control of the woods around the ruined city.  The "dead elves" were ghosts that haunted the ruined city.  

       As we took our leave of them, they also warned us that, if we meant to go to the bog, there were a covey of hags there, who were very dangerous and "yucky."  We thanked them for the information, and left.  As we walked out, I noticed a large leaf stuck to the back of Calvin's armor…written on it, in shaky common that I was barely able to read, seeing how poor my reading skills are when it comes to anything but elven, it read "Kick me in the behind!" Chuckling, I pointed it out to Tobias, who laughed, and promptly did as the sign bade.  Calvin turned on us, an irritated look on his face.  As soon as he turned around again, I proceeded to follow suit. When he glared at us, I shrugged, trying to look innocent, and merely mentioned that if he had not wanted to be kicked, he should not have put such a sign on his armor.  I heard the pixies howling with laughter, invisible, around us.  Calvin managed to get the sign off, read it and crumpled the leaf up, muttering, to himself about "children."   I didn't bother to take offense.

From the pixie's camp, we headed for the marsh, seeing as the small fey had seen who we assumed was Navarro headed that way.  It was more than an hour or so before we found him…up to his waist in a sinkhole, and sinking further in by the moment.  When he saw us, he immediately began pleading for assistance.  For a moment, I think, we all entertained the thought of leaving the little weasel to his fate, but since we had come all this way to catch and question the man, we had Ranon fly over and fish the man out.  Before he had a solid grip on the ground, we had disarmed him of sword and crossbow.  

       At first he seemed confused as to why we were "attacking" him.  We quickly explained who we were and why we had been tracking him.  Now, the others, for some reason were not being very talkative…or, in Ranon's case, far too graphic about the tortures we could inflict on the human if he did not cooperate…maybe even if he did cooperate…so it fell to me, believe it or nay, to coax the needed answers form the bandit.  Navarro did not seem in the least bit cowed by Ranon's threats, and was quite cool and arrogant, even disarmed as he was.  I doubted that threats would get what we needed from him…so I resorted to other tactics.

       I let him think I was a bit of a kindred soul, being Ruathym and a raider, and I gave him my word that if he answered our questions, **I **would not harm him.  The weaselly human actually wanted us to offer him some reward for the information, saying that the people he would be betraying to us were quite powerful.  Since I really was in no mood to bargain, I told him that leaving with his life was reward enough, and that I might even return his sword to him if he told us what we wished to know.  He seemed to think about it, the grudgingly agreed, shaking my hand on the deal.  He told us that he did not know the name of the leader, or what exactly they were up to, but that the people we were looking for were part of a group called the Shadow Thieves, and that we would most likely find the leader in a place called Skullport.  

       Deciding to head back to the bandit camp, and find the rest of his compatriots, the others and I started walking.  Navarro protested that I had said I would return his sword that he did not want to walk unarmed through this "accursed" forest.  I shrugged, keeping the blade on my shoulder…far above his reach.

       "I will," I told him, "But I did not say when.  You will return with us to your camp and instruct your men to surrender to us…unless, of course, you wish them all dead."  A strange expression came over his face then, but he grumbled and followed along, having little other choice.  I thought it strange that the rest of my party had not noticed the loophole I had left in my promise to Navarro…I had stated that **I** would not hurt him…but I had said nothing about them.  I had assumed that they wanted Navarro dead, for the reward, if nothing else…but not one of them acted, much to my disappointment.  

       We found our way back to the path towards the bandit camp, when we set upon by a large pack of dire wolves.  The battle might have been deadly, seeing as there were about a dozen of the beasts.  Hank, however, used some druid spells to control, and befriended nearly half of the wolves, and the rest of the party managed to take down the others.  Since I did not want to have to save Navarro, should the wolves attack him, I foolishly returned his sword to him.  By the time the battle was done, the rat was long gone, having run, like a coward.

       We continued into the bandit camp anyhow, only to find that something had already happened there.  The campsite was devastated, and the corpses of the bandits were strewn about like dead leaves.  Yet, there was no blood, and no obvious indication of how they had died, save for the hideous expression of terror frozen on their faces.  All of them had weapons drawn, and the camp fires were still burning, indicating that whatever had occurred had only just happened.  Perhaps this was the reason the pixies claimed that Navarro had seemed afraid when he was running towards the marsh.  There were signs that there had been horses in the camp, but they had all bolted.  As we started to search them, a strange thing began to happen.  The corpses began to fade away, until there was nothing human left of them, and a sickly black mist began to form in place of each of them, coalescing into vaguely humanoid shapes.  I am no priest, but I know undead when I see such.  There were twelve of the shadows, and we began to cut into them as best we could, but I saw them touch Tobias, and the bard staggered, his face paling…then they touched Calvin, and the paladin dropped his sword, suddenly too weak to hold it up.  We would have lost, I have no doubt of it, for the best efforts and prayers of Hank and Ranon and Calvin were doing nothing to turn aside the undead creatures.  But then, the shadows seemed to stop.  The temperature of the camp grew chill enough that I could see my own breath, and the shadows recoiled, as though in fear.  A pale, bluish-hued light appeared from behind us.  When I turned around, I saw five figures floating above the battlefield…the shadows shuddered, and fled into the forest.  The forms began to take a clearer shape…the shapes of elven men and women; beautiful as all the people, but so sad that it hurt my soul to see.  They seemed to have a leader, a woman, who in life must have been gorgeous, but now her face was marred by her sorrow.  Her eyes seemed to plead for something, and she opened her mouth as though to speak, but instead began to sing, the others with her joining in the unearthly chorus.  At that moment, I knew why Morlaine had gone mad from the sound of it.  The woman's voice seemed to tug at my soul, and drive her sadness into my mind.  I felt an urge to follow the music, to join the chorus, even if it meant my death…but I managed to resist the urge, before I could put the thoughts to actions.  However, as the ghosts began to move away, I saw that Tobias was moving forward, as though he meant to follow.  I grabbed him by the back of his shirt to keep him from folly.  Suddenly, from the left, in the bushes, there was a rustling.  Before we had a chance to investigate, Morlaine, the crazy bard from before stepped out.  At that, the eerie chorus floated towards Morlaine.  The leader entreated the mad half-breed closer, and Morlaine stopped his shuddering and moaning, and slowly nodded his head.  The leader of the ghosts melded into Morlaine's body, and when he looked up at us, his eyes were no longer crazed, but filled with a terrible suffering.  He began to sing, but his voice was now clear and even, with just the slightest hint of feminine inflection.

       "Help us…please help us and end this eternal damning torment," Morlaine sang.

       'How?" I asked, knowing that I was speaking to the ghostly elven female, and not Morlaine at all.  She did not answer but beckoned…so we followed…Tobias and I drawn by the elven spirits, and the others, perhaps, only thinking to follow us.

       Nothing could have prepared me for the sight the ghosts lead us to.  The bushes and thorns we pushed through were so thick they seemed to deliberately impede our progress.  We walked into a grove, still as death.  A blanket of dead leaves covered the forest floor, and all about cobwebs hung, and deadly nightshade bushes grew like weeds.  In the center of the grove there was a terrible, twisted, dead, black tree.  Some of the ghosts began to flit into the tree, thing of death that it was.  This place seemed a corruption of all that was life and elven.  I hated the feel of it.  Then Morlaine began to sing again, and the words seemed to tell the story of the ghosts…of what had happened in this place.  The voices seemed to change throughout the song, sometimes one, and sometimes more.  

       "Death and pain and vile blister, let us doom our hated sister; Let us sheath her cursed song, ever more than ever long; let us watch us once she dies, and then stop at where she lies; let us dance and sing all day, for poor Ilumenine!

       Oh, Ygwannach, wrath of the forest! We are thy daughters! Our guardian, we beseech thee; come to us! For our sister has haunted thy silence! Become as living hate of the forest; Slay, destroy, dance to our sister's voice! Bring down what you have guarded for so many centuries! Let sweet Ilumenine be the cause of her house's fall!"  Then the song changed again, this time two voice, a man and a woman seemed to speak, their voices rising above sounds of screams from the other ghosts, and a memory of a the rumble of destruction.

       "Father, father? What curse has come on us? What enmity hath doomed our house?"

       "Cursed child, it is thy voice that hath summoned the forest's wrath! Thus Ilarnesil's house dies, and I rue the day I sired a maiden with a voice that would charm the forest spirits and turn them upon us!"  As the song ended, fading into silence, the spirit, whom I assumed was the Ilumenine of the story, abruptly left Morlaine's body and resumed singing with the rest of the choir, the song still unearthly, but the sadness beginning to grate on my nerves.  

       Morlaine suddenly collapsed to the ground, gasping, and weeping.  He managed to gain his feet again, but with terrible difficulty.  

       'Defeat the Ygwannach…strike the root, its power and end this curse…their curse…my curse…song eternal.  Her silver harp-her sisters took it to the bog…it is lost, the harp…summon… No way to redeem Ilumenine.  All victims-her voice summoned, the Ygwannach brought the cursed, ravaged the city, chasing her… The curse can end…the harp…the sister…" Morlaine gasped and pleaded.  The others seemed confused, but puzzling my way through the meaning in the song was nothing compared to the intricacies of studying ancient elven history.  I nodded, helping the half-elven bard stand.  I understood his madness, his wish for a cure.  If I could find the way to cure his madness, and release the tormented spirits of the people as well, then I knew I had to do everything in my power to do so.  I only wish that my own madness were so easy to cure…  Perhaps you wonder why I wrote so much of the detail down of the song…I do it, for this is a piece of elven history I have never read about.  Perhaps because the city is so small…but I think, that because this place is so old, and because this curse has gone on for so long, that maybe the other communities of the people did not know what had happened here…or perhaps they forgot.  In any case, I feel I should record as much as possible.    

       I explained to the others the meaning of the song, in simple terms, so that they would understand. Ilumenine had been the daughter of the leader of a house called Ilarnesil.  Her sisters were jealous of her, and hated her, so they used magic to corrupt the forest guardian…the Ygwannach.  Called by the sound of Ilumenine's voice, the Ygwannach came, and destroyed the elven city.  The curse of the sisters assured that the ghosts would not rest, and that the Ygwannach would continue its control.  The sisters were apparently hiding in the bog, with the harp needed to make right the curse.  At least, that was what I gleaned from the ghost's words…although I have difficulty believing that the sisters of Ilumenine would damn themselves and all their people for the sake of jealousy.  Then again, after the incident in Goldenfields, and the tale told me by Lord Elaith of the assassination of King Zaor…I suppose that I must come to the conclusion that elven nature is not infallible…that there are those among the people with hearts of darkness to rival the blackness of the drow's souls.  Perhaps such elves are throwbacks to ancient days, before the Crown wars…when all the people and the drow were brothers…before great Corellon turned dark the skin of the drow.  Perhaps a small few managed to escape Corellon's curse, and their descendants are among these evil-spirited elves…for only folk as evil as the drow could have killed our beloved king…or damned an entire city to eternal suffering over a foolish, human emotion.

       The others agreed that we must do what we had to, to help the spirits.  It was only right, and just that we should.  However, it was also decided, that with the draining affects from the shadows and those of us still wounded from the fight with the wolves, that we would rest for a while…long enough for Ranon to be able to cast more healing, and remove the damage from the shadows.  We rested not far from the tree, for we all had the feeling that we would be safer with the elven ghosts than we would be in the woods, or the ruins.  I did not rest much…I could not, not with the faint strains of that song echoing about.  It was such a terrible and great melody, that it was all I could do not to give into the despair it invoked.  Tobias, perhaps because he is a bard, seemed to feel the effects even more keenly…to the point that I ended up knocking him unconscious to keep him from folly.

       We passed the long night, and were up and moving once more, back towards the bog, as the light was just beginning to cut through the trees.

       It did not take us long to search the treacherous swamp, and find what had to be what we sought.  The pixies had spoken of hags that lived in the swamp…and the song of Ilumenine's sisters stated that they, too, lived in the swamp.  It is known that when some elves die, they become banshees…so we thought if these sisters were so evil, perhaps their own curse recoiled on them…making them hags.  The theory seemed sound enough, and it was all we had to go on. 

       We found the only sign of a place that might be inhabited… or rather, Hank did.  It was in the form of a dark, dank cave that reeked of death, even before we stepped into the darkness.  Guarding it was a fairly stupid hill giant, who seemed to be in love with the hags.  The entrance was a quagmire of rotted vegetation and the stench was stomach churning.  The giant did not seemed to notice, merely called out  "who goes there?"  We asked a few questions, but got little in the way of usable answers, save that we would find the hags somewhere within.  We gave the giant the chance to leave, but he refused…so we killed it, when it decided to attack instead. 

       I hardly remember every thing we saw in that cave, only that the water was foul, and chest level in some places…so deep that we had to lift the dwarves clear or risk having them drown.  There seemed to be skeletal body parts littered all about, much like the last hag we had fought, had decorated her lair.  Slime and roots covered the walls. We found several rooms that were empty, and one where we were attacked by three creatures so foul that we could not tell what they were at first.  We thought they might have been the hags, but when we began to notice that the bodies seemed to rise, even after they had been "killed," we realized that these were scrags…foul water trolls that could only truly be defeated by fire.  Fortunately, we had torches, and the casters of the party, save for myself, had fire spells prepared.  So Calvin and Hank, and I cut down the creatures, and Tobias and Ranon finished them off.  

       We found a hidden lair at one point, which contained a naga…of the good variety.  It had tried to trick us at first, with an illusion of a blue dragon lairing in the pool where it was…but I saw through it easily enough, and the others soon realized it as well.  Tobias and I were the only ones who spoke the creature's language.  It told us that it had come in the room several months ago, and been trapped by a collapsed tunnel.  It was trying to stay hidden from the other occupants of the cave, thus the reason for the illusion.  It asked us for assistance, saying that it's eggs had been stolen by some humans, and it wanted its "children" back. We did not ask how the naga had lost them, but I agreed to keep an eye out for the eggs. It gave me a piece of cracked eggshell to compare, if I found them.  It thanked us, and we left the cave to continue with our search.  

       We finally came across the hags, hidden in a secret lair.  There was little about them that was elven any more, although one did try to fool us with an illusion.  Calvin had nearly been knocked down by the feel of evil radiating from them, so we were not fooled with any of their false words.  We cut them each down, only marginally slowed by their spells.  

       We found their treasure in another room, gold, some items, and the silver harp that we had been seeking.

       We left the place without delay, headed back towards the city.  Morlaine found us almost immediately, and took the harp, reverently.  First we went back to the tree, and he played it there…the music freeing the ghosts from their curses, as they all faded away, hopefully finally able to complete their journey to Arvandyr.  From there Morlaine brought us to a place…a place he had seen in Ilumenine's memories when she had been in his body…it was an altar to the Ygwannach.  Inscribed on it was a riddle, in elven; it read:

       When shadow meets sun, Water meets stone,

       Wind meets song, and spirit meets bone;

       When all this is done, then Evil shall come.

It was a simple enough task to decipher the rhyme.  We had to play the harp at noon, after we had freed the elven spirits, and placed water upon the altar.  It was near noon, so we did have long to wait…Ranon dumped out his water skin on the altar, and standing back from the rest of us Morlaine began to play, the song was that which the ghosts had been singing, only without the supernatural feeling of sorrow.

       It did not take long for the call to be answered.  As the music died away, a steady thudding shook the ground, and there was the cracking sound of trees and branches being torn and broken.  From the tangle of the forest behind the altar it came, and though we were all ready for a battle, the actual sight of the Ygwannach was momentarily stunning.  It was huge, and seemed to be made of plants, though it had a vaguely humanoid shape.  The sense of it was so evil that I did not need Calvin to tell me so, however, and the look of it alone, dark and withered plants, terrible curved claws…was enough to assure me that this the Ygwannach…and I felt sickened at the corruption of the guardian.

       I took time enough to cast a few spells…mostly to make my strength even greater than usual, and to strike truer with my first hit…then, with a call to Corellon for his guidance, I rose to the killing edge, and charged the Ygwannach, the battle cries and chanting spells of my compatriots ringing in my ears.

       We defeated it, despite its greater size, and strength, and its unholy powers, yet at a cost.  Hank fell during the battle, and no spell that Ranon or Tobias could cast would heal him.  For some reason, they decided not to bury or fellow, but preserve his corpse…I suppose to send him to his home to be buried…although I do not know where such a place was.  I did not object, but snapped at Tobias when he made some uncouth comment, and told him to shut up and honor the dead, for Hank had fought bravely.

       The only material reward we got for our troubles were the belongings of the dead bandits…but the satisfaction of helping the people, and removing great evil from the land was more important to me than any amount of gold.

       We returned to the town a day or two later, spending a bit of time resting in the forest.  When we did, there was quite a surprise waiting for us.  The gates to the city were locked, and we were barred entrance on the orders of the new "mayor"…none other than Mario Navarro…up to trouble, not even three days after we had let him go.  Well, we certainly weren't going to let him loose a second time.  The guards at the gate spoke to us, though they seemed fearful.  They told us that Navarro had killed mayor Rodder…that friendly halfling fellow…and he and several "goons" had taken control of the town by imprisoning the council members.  The guards were all being forced to help, despite the fact that they did not agree with what was going on, because of the hostages.  They did mention, though, that their captain, Keerath, seemed to be helping Navarro…or at least, not opposing him.

       I explained to the guards that we were going into the town, whether they liked the idea or not, after they returned from speaking with Navarro, who had refused our entrance.  The guards were given the option of pretending that I had hit them, and knocked them unconscious to gain entrance, or actually experiencing the ordeal.  Naturally, they chose the former; especially after the others added their own comments as to the amount of damage I could do, even without a sword.

       So we got into the town without incident.  Ranon and Calvin immediately went off to the local church…of a halfling goddess named Yondalla, with Hank's corpse…I suppose so that they could keep it safe while we did what we had to do.  Tobias and I went to the inn and tavern, thinking to find out what we could there.

       The place was small, run by a very pretty human woman, named Rice Rina.  She was all too willing to tell us whatever she knew, after we explained that we meant to deal with Navarro.  She reiterated the guard's story, and added directions, as to where we would find the captive town council.  Once we got the hostages free, we could deal with Navarro.

       Ranon and Calvin came back a few moments later, and spoke with Tobias about something.  I did not pay much attention to their words, all though I think I should have, in retrospect.

       We came up with a quick plan, which was mostly that we would have Tobias use his magic to make us all invisible and scout out the hostage house.  When we got there, we could see one guard…one of Navarro's men, patrolling the perimeter of the house.  A closer look in the windows revealed that there were five of Navarro's men inside, and the six members of the town council were tied up in the center of the room.  

       The plan we decided on was simple.  I would sneak up behind the one guard, and knock him out, then use a spell to create the illusion that he was still there.  Then I would go up to the door, knock, and cast a web spell into the building.  The others would come up then, and we would deal with the, hopefully trapped, guards.

       Everything went perfectly.  The guards…mostly half-orcs, and greasy, smelly humans, had no idea what was happening, before it was too late.  They were all trapped within the web, before they even had a chance to draw their weapons.  The party methodically cut through the web, until we released the captives first, told them to run off, and hide somewhere.  Although I would have preferred to kill them, we decided to tie up Navarro's men, with the same ropes they'd bound their prisoners with, and leave them in the house.  With luck, Navarro would not know what we had done, until we had caught him as well.

       It was not long before we had the expected encounter…in fact, it was far shorter than we had anticipated.  We had only begun to walk towards mayor Rodder's house, where we had been told we would find Navarro and the captain of the guard, Keerath, when an arrow flew from seemingly nowhere, and stuck Ranon in the wing.  The dwarf howled and clutched his wound.  Calvin immediately took off in the direction of the archer, as another flew out and hit Tobias.  I moved forward, but in a paralleling direction, meaning to catch the archer in a flanking position from the other side of the building. Instead of the archer, I ran face to face with Navarro, instead…or rather, neck to sword.  I turned a corner of the building, only to have him step from the shadows, and put his sword up to my throat before I had a chance to react.

       "Well, if it isn't you," Navarro sneered.  "Just what are you doing in my town?"

       "Your town?" I asked, eyebrow raised, skeptically. "I thought that mayor Rodder was in charge here."

       "He was…but now I am," Navarro boasted.  

       "So what do you mean to do now?" I looked down at the sword.  He did not seem to like the gesture, for he pushed the tip of the blade harder against my neck, drawing a bit of blood.

       "Getting rid of trouble, now walk!" he ordered.

       "We saved your miserable life," I growled, menacingly.

       "And I told you what you wanted to know.  There is no debt…walk!" He hissed.  I thought of my options…I could defy him and attack...but I risked a slit throat with that…I could cast a spell to daze the smelly human, but again that same problem.  So then I decided my best option was to let Navarro think he was in control for the moment, and surprise him.  In order to do so, I had to warn the party…and to that end, and used my empathetic link with Sanhandrian to send the familiar to Tobias, and warn the elf.  I gave him the mental image of him, hiding beneath a leaf, then of him showing the same movement to Tobias.  The others were all well aware of my link with Sanhandrian, and with luck, they would know what I meant…and hopefully, they were still standing, and not riddled with arrows.

       I walked slowly, to give them time, even though it further annoyed Navarro, who scored another thin line of blood across my neck.  I was getting more and more irritated with the human, and knew that as soon as opportunity presented itself...I would tear his ugly head off.

       When we got back to the street, where I had left the others, there was no sign of Calvin, Ranon, or Tobias.  I had to hope that that was good.  Navarro seemed frustrated, as he looked around.  I had to assume he meant to use me as a hostage against their surrender.  Navarro called out for the others to show them selves…and they did…Ranon with his crossbow readied, and pointed directly at Navarro, and Tobias in a like position, with his longbow.

       Navarro was trying to use me as a shield, but Ranon and Tobias were flanking him, so it wasn't working very well.

       "Put your weapons down!" Navarro shouted.

       "Shoot him," I called out to them.

       "Now!!" Navarro screamed.  

       "Now," I ordered.  They listened to me, of course…after all…there's really no good reason they should listen to a lying criminal like Navarro.  The arrow and bolt flew towards Navarro, even as he thrust upwards, meaning to kill me.  I managed to dodge, moving to the side, and his sword only grazed my skin, leaving another thin line of red.  Tobias' arrow missed, but Ranon's struck true.  Navarro screeched, and moved to attack again.  A snap of my fingers, and my axe appeared in my hand.  I swung at him, connecting with his armor, and cutting into him. Seeing that he was overwhelmed, Navarro turned and ran, even as I allowed the battle rage to catch hold.  I chased after him, and eventually, must have caught him, for when I was calm again, his headless corpse was laying in the dirt before me, next to his head, fresh blood dripping from my axe.  Ranon and Tobias came up a moment later, breathing hard from the run.  A short time later, Calvin came walking up, holding his sword on the archer…none other than captain Keerath.  We questioned him as to why he had been helping Navarro.  His excuse, like the guards, was that he had had no other choice.  Rather than kill him, we turned him over to his own men…o rather I did, as the others all ran off to do things…Ranon taking the head of Navarro with him, for some reason.


	3. Chapter 3

I went back to the bar when I was down helping the guards get things in order, prisoner wise.  I found Tobias there, already drink.  Now, I have no idea what possessed me…but maybe it was that she had smiled at me earlier…I went up to the girl who ran the bar, and ordered a drink rather than take Tobias up on alcohol, as I usually did.  She smiled at me again, and I, foolishly, thought that, perhaps…well…hells, I don't know what I thought, only that she was pretty. I tried using everything that I had seen human men do, to impress her…and she kept smiling, but after awhile, I gave up, when nothing seemed to be working.  She probably thought I was an idiot, anyhow…or ugly…probably both, now that I think about it.

       So I took to drinking, to assuage my hurt feelings, and Tobias laughed at me…saying that if I stopped using the term wench, and took baths more frequently, that I might have a chance with a woman.  I glowered at him, reminding him that I **did** take baths, and the only reason I was dirty was because I had just killed a man who causing trouble in the girl's town.  Tobias just laughed again, then asked why I was bothering…especially when I had such distain for humans.  Well, into the drink by then, I answered with a roar, that there were no elven women about, and there was nothing wrong with human women, so long as you don't make half-elves with them.  When Tobias chuckled again, and the others came in to hear the last bit, I got annoyed and told him that if he was so smart, that he should seduce the girl, and see how far he got, to show me how it was done.  The Tobias started acting stupid, refusing out of hand, and saying he wasn't interested, anyhow.  Ranon asked Tobias if he was "funny," and Tobias seemed insulted, but still refused.  That was when I noticed that the girl had gone into the back room, behind the bar.  I listened carefully, and I hear her giggling…laughing at me, no doubt.  Stupid wench.  I had a few more drinks, and after that it didn't matter anymore…in fact, I was having a hard time concentrating on what the others were saying at all…again, in hindsight, I rather think I should have been.

       I woke up with a hangover, which a few more cups quickly cured…still, I wasn't all that drunk, when Ranon came in the door, later in the afternoon, with a weary looking Hank.  I must have looked incredibly stupid with my mouth hanging open, dumb-founded, but I could not help it.  I had assumed Hank was dead, and would stay that way…but the others had had other plans.  Apparently, they had spoken with Hank's spirit and asked Hank if he wished them to raise him…he'd said yes, and they used his portion of the reward money we would get for killing Navarro, to have the halfling clerics of Yondalla bring him back.  Needless to say, I didn't much like the idea.  The dead should stay that way, by my way of thinking…but I hadn't been paying attention, so they'd done this without my opinion, or knowledge.  Still, what was done was done…Hank was alive once more, and it would very well be nice to kill him again.  My complaints would earn me nothing, so I merely shrugged and told him he looked awful, and went back to drinking, doing my best to forget how much women dislike, especially with the…wench hovering moving about the inn, laughing at me the whole while.  Bitch.

       We left a few days later, after Hank had slept, and looked better than death warmed over, and after the others had managed to keep me from drinking, long enough to get sober.

       The trip back started out fairly uneventful…that is until we, once again reached the Stonebridge.  A storm had begun a few hours before we got there, and by the time we began to cross, the rain was a deluge, broken only by claps of thunder and distant lightning.

       We saw them, halfway across the bridge…a large group of people headed towards us from the opposite direction.  As we got closer, we saw that they were all on foot, wearing dark clothing…then Tobias told me that they were familiar to him…that there were several among them that he recognized…from the night that we, and the others in the adventurer's guild.  Then Ranon added that he, too, recognized one of them.  

       "Just keep going," Calvin ordered us.  "There's time for vengeance later…they outnumber us four to one."  I meant to do as Calvin wanted…truly I did, but when I looked up, and saw among them the miserable, drider kissing half-orc who had lured me into the trap that night, my temper snapped.  Airk…no…I went into a rage, and attacked him, without provocation.  Needless to say, they were surprised, and I vaguely recall that I cut the bastard down with one swing…he'd not been prepared, this time.  But I did not stop there.  I cut through them like fire wood, roaring to Corellon.  It was only when there were no longer any more near me, and the few remaining ran that I came out of my berserking, and took a look around.  We had killed fifteen of them, before the other had broken and run…I had killed ten on my own.  Tobias was standing nearly at the end of the bridge, trying to restring his bow, which had broken during the fight.  Hank was wiping blood from his swords, glaring at me.  And Ranon…Ranon was healing Calvin.  The paladin seemed to be in shock, and it only took me a moment to discern why.  On the ground near his feet was his shield; it had been cleaved in two.  Calvin's expression was pale, his eyes glazed as he stared in horror at his left arm...or what was left of it.  The leader of the band I'd attacked had been an Orog…half orc, half ogre…and he had attacked Calvin and cut Calvin's lower arm in half.  There was no sign of the limb, so I assumed it had gone over the bridge, and into the river.  

       Needless to say we did not travel any further that day…or night.  Instead, we found a dry place, on the riverbank beneath the bridge.  We left Ranon to deal with Calvin, while the rest of us looted the bodies, hoping to find some information…notes, anything on them to say why they were here…if they'd been following us for some reason, or if was a coincidence.  We found nothing.  

       We took our rest beneath the bridge.  Still, I was forced awake, halfway through the night.  I had had another dream…of another ancient battle. It was strange. I still had those dreams, but only in Waterdeep…and had not had one since we left…yet here, again, I had one.  I tried to keep silent, not waking the others, and so walked out into the rain.  Strangely enough, as I wandered around near the edge of the bridge, I sensed a powerful magic.  I leaned down, squinting in the dark and rain, and saw a glint of…something in the dirt.  I dug it out, and the minute my fingers touched it, I felt strong magic.  I went back down to the fire, and examined it, finding that it was a red gem, roughly the size of a walnut.  It looked a bit like a pommel gem.  I put it away, meaning to ask Tobias to identify it later.  

       Unable to go back into reverie…still haunted by the drams…dreams which I should not be having…I decided to take a bath.  The river was swift and storm swollen, but the rain was still coming down so heavily, that all I had to do was strip and soap up to get clean.  

       However, when I was done, the gem and the dream, both, were still nagging me, so I decided to wake Tobias and ask him if he knew aught about it…after all, I usually only had the dreams when I was around him…so maybe he had something to do with it.   So I woke him…by wringing out my soaking tunic over his head.  He shouted as he awoke.  Hank, who had been on watch glared at me, and Ranon woke as well, warning us to keep quiet and not wake Calvin.

       Tobias wiped the water off his face, not bothering to glare at me, or yell…in fact, he muttered something about how a bath was a good idea, but couldn't I have waited until morning.  Tobias is so odd.

       So I explained why I'd woken him…about the dreams I'd been having.

       "Dreams?" he asked.  "Like a human?"  I nodded.

       "Maybe you're turning into one," he jested.  My fist shot towards his face before I could think better of it…fortunately…for him…he dodged before I could connect.  He took a few steps back.

       "Woah!  Sorry…I didn't mean it."  I cracked my knuckles, letting him know, in my own way, that another crack like that would leave him in a world of pain.

       "All right…so you've been having dreams…of battles?  So maybe they're just memories.  Maybe it only seems like a dream."

       "You do not understand…these battles…they are not anything I would be remembering!  They are battles of humans, and orcs, dwarves and giants, and drow and elves…all kinds of battles."

       "So why couldn't you be remembering them.  Maybe you've just forgotten that you saw…"

       "Tobias!  Until I came to Waterdeep, I had never even seen a dwarf or and orc.  I only know what they are because I've read about them, in the histories" I explained, exasperated.

       "Well, there you go…maybe you're remembering things that you've read in book, then."  Hank muttered something derogatory about his doubts of my ability to read, but I wasn't in a mood to pay attention to his insults.

       "I'm not!" I protested.  "These are dreams…not reverie!  And besides…the people, when they speak, it is in languages I do not understand.  The common that the humans shout, is not the common I know…the dwarvish voices do not speak the language like they do…and the elvish is ancient! These are ancient battles…and the people in them speak languages I have no knowledge of…explain that if you will…or perhaps, you with your skill in languages already know?" I added.  "The dreams have only begun since we went to the mountains and fought the orcs…and every time I have had one, you have been near by…maybe this is some sort of spell, or game you are playing..." My voice rose warningly, angrily.

       "Woah!" Tobias protested, holding his hands up. "You know that I can't cast any spells like that.  And why would I?  So you could figure it out and beat me into pulp?  Do you think I'm crazy?  Besides, the only ancient language I know is elven…which you taught me, if you recall…long after the fight with the orcs," he added.  And it was true, for I had been teaching him ancient elven, and in return, he had begun teaching me how to read common…in secret, of course, since3 I did not want the others to know that I was learning to do so.  

       "So what then?" I asked, frustrated.

       "I don't know," Tobias shrugged.  "Ancient languages… battles…it could be some magic, but you know more about that than I would."

       "Perhaps it is a vision," Ranon suggested, from where he had been sitting, listening.  I turned to look at him.

       "What do you mean?"

       "Well, sometimes gods send vision…gods…or other creatures as well.  Perhaps you're getting a vision for some reason."

       "But what is important about ancient battles, long fought and over with? " I protested.  Ranon shrugged.

       "No idea…that's the problem with visions…you have to figure 'em out."  

       "Some help you are," I grumbled.  Finally, I decided to give up on the conversation.  It wasn't getting me anywhere, and it was probably just making the party see me as more freakish than they already did.

       I remembered the gem, about then, and gave it to Tobias and told him to identify it for me.  Yes, I know I could easily enough do it myself, but identifying spells are so tedious.  It's far easier to have Tobias do the dirty work, anyhow.

       I did bother to try to go back to sleep, but wandered about in the rain, for a while, thinking.  I went up to the top of the bridge and retrieved the broken pieces of Calvin's shield.  I suppose that what had happened to him, was partially my fault, for I had started the fight.  The least I could do was try to reforge the damned thing, when we got back to town. I saw that most of the bodies from the fight had been dragged away, and through the rain, caught a glimpse of a carrier crawler, which was enough to make me go back to camp.  Tobias had finished with the gem, and claimed that though it was powerful magic, he could not learn anything about.  I took it back and put it away, perplexed.  Still, the matter was quickly put from my mind, when Calvin awoke, as I warned the others of the carrion crawlers.

       The paladin was definitely not himself…the shock of his lost limb still with him.  His eyes were feverish, and he began to mutter under his breath…things that the Calvin we knew would never say.  He spoke of blood and revenge, tearing heads off, and tracking "them" down and butchering "them."  Very un-Calvinish, to be certain.  We tried to speak with him, but he responded to us with similar responses.  He was barely coherent, and Ranon mentioned that he thought a fever was setting in, despite his best healing efforts.  He looked down at his arm…what was left of it, in horror, and babbled about how he was useless, now.  In an attempt to shock Calvin back to reality, I made a derogatory comment about his horse.  Normally that would have had him jumping to defend the creature, but this time he merely asked "what horse?"  

       So we decided to drug him to calm him down.  I know a nominal bit about alchemy, but it was enough.  Using some of Hank's herbs, I recalled a formula I'd read about, and mixed a sleeping potion for the paladin.  It was easy enough to get him to drink it, since we slipped it in some ale, and ordered him to drink it. He responded a bit like a child would, to the command, and drank it down with out protest.  It worked well enough, and he fell back to sleep.  Tobias brought up an idea that we try to use an illusion spell to make Calvin think that his arm was still there, but the dwarves and I quickly vetoed the idea.  When the bard persisted, that it might "help" Calvin, I warned him that if he did not cease with his prattle, I'd throw him into the river, and we would see how much sea elf blood he had in him.  Needless to say, he left the idea alone, and went down by the river to bathe.

       Morning came, finally, and with it, the cessation of the rain and storm.  Calvin was still incoherent, and unresponsive, so we ended up tying him to his horse, and leading it, as we continued to head back to Waterdeep.

       It took us longer returning, that it had coming.  We had to keep the pace slow, for Calvin.  He did come down with a fever, as Ranon had predicted, and he was senseless with it for nearly a ten day.  When he came out of it, though, he still babbled on about revenge and blood and death, and so on, so we decided to keep him drugged to keep him calm.  As we got closer to Waterdeep, we lessened the doses we gave him, and then stopped them all together.  We hoped that the shock would wear off faster, if we kept him awake and aware.  However, things were not progressing very well.  By the time we returned to Waterdeep, some three weeks or so, later, Calvin had not improved in the slightest, save that his wound was healed, for the most part, and he could sit up straight in his saddle, so long as we tied his legs to it.

       Needless to say, we were all fairly worried, and the worry over Calvin had the four of us, Tobias and I, Hank, and Ranon working together with less bickering than usual.  Calvin, in a way, was the one who held us together, and stood as a source of common sense and restraint, when we otherwise might have just charged into a given situation.

       Now, as we had been no help to his recovery, we decided to take him to his church.  They would know him, as he had been trained there, and maybe priests of his own religion would better understand how to help him.  So with that, we took him to the temple of Tyr, just outside of Waterdeep.

       There was no one out front, when we got there, but the doors were open, so we went in, still leading Calvin on his horse.

       The priests, naturally, immediately approached us.  A few of them seemed to recognize Calvin, and one asked the paladin what was going on.  Calvin responded that he would" track them, and kill them, rip their heads off and drink the blood."  Needless to say, his fellows were shocked.  Ranon and Tobias began explaining what had happened as I untied Calvin from the horse, shaking my head.  

       "Calvin, for the love of Corellon…you shouldn't say things like that.  It is not like you.  You do not think of revenge and blood…I do," I told him.  He looked at me blankly for a moment, then replied,

       "We must find them."

       "And we will, when you stop acting madder than I am," I answered him, quietly.  He seemed to think on that, but did not respond again.  The priests pulled Calvin down out of his saddle, and said that we should go with them and speak with the High Abbot of the temple of Tyr.  Two burly, armored priests, started to help Calvin away, and I tried once more to get Calvin to respond, telling someone to do something with his "nag of a horse."  He only replied that "she is old."  I sighed, and walked with the others, further into the church.

       They lead us to a smaller chamber, adorner with the symbol of Tyr.  When we got to the door, Calvin said, in a voice far more coherent than usual, that he would like to walk in on his own…that he had lost his arm, and not his legs. 

       We met with the high priest, an old man, who looked as though he had once been in a great many battles, and had once been an impressive warrior.  He seemed to know Calvin, and was distressed at the few garbled response he managed to get from Calvin.  Finally, he asked us for information on what had happened.  We told the man nearly everything that had happened to the party from the night we were all attacked, to what had happened at the Stonebridge.  I gather that there is a spell…divine in nature, that can regrows lost limbs…and the high priest tried to cast this on Calvin…and was very shocked when the spell did not work.  He asked, then, to see the pieces of Calvin's shield.  I drew them out and handed them over.  He mentioned that he had given the shield to Calvin some time back, as a reward for his deeds.  He cast another spell, and gasped.  

       "Some foul magic was at work in the weapon that destroyed both the shield, and removed Calvin's arm."

       "Is that why he is acting so odd?" I asked.  The human shook his head.

       "No…what ails him mentally is his own shock and horror, no magic spell.  The only one who can cure Calvin, is Calvin himself.  I think that he is unable to come to terms with the loss of his arm.  But the magic in the weapon that did this…"

       "An axe," I interjected, helpfully.

       "…the axe that did this…is evil.  Normally we would be able to regenerate Calvin's arm…but the evil is blocking the spells.  And I fear that until Calvin is whole once more…that he will not recover," the man added, grimly.

       "But we need him," Ranon protested.  I nodded, and after a moment, so did Hank and Tobias.  He was an important member of our group…and if we wanted to go after these shadow thieves, we would, indeed, need Calvin…sane and whole.

       The priest seemed to think about what we had said for a moment…then looked at Calvin, thoughtfully.  He rose, and beckoned us to another room.  

       "Stay here Calvin, we shall return momentarily," he told the paladin.  Calvin nodded, obediently, as a child would to a parent. We followed the priest to the next room.

       "There is a way, but I am not certain how easy it will be," the priest said without preamble.

       "Over a century ago, there was a paladin of Tyr, much like Calvin, who came to this church.  He, too, had lost his left arm through foul means.  In reward for his loyal service, though, Tyr had given this paladin a great gift…an arm crafted of great magic and metal.  This arm worked as well...if not better than the man's original limb.  When the paladin died, he had the arm given to a silver dragon he knew and was friends with.  He believed that it would be safe with her, and that, should another, worthy person have need of it, that the dragon would be able to judge whether or not they were of a nature to have the arm.  If it is your will to help Calvin, than this is the only path that I can think of at this time."

       "Where can we find this dragon?" I asked.  

       "We know only that she lairs somewhere in the Sword Mountains, to the north of here.  Beyond that, though…you would have to do the searching."  I looked at the others…their expression told me what I needed to know.  We were all of a like mind in this endeavor.

       "We will go, but we'll need time to get ready…can you keep Calvin here…maybe get him more coherent?" I asked.  The priest nodded.  There was a loud clatter from the room where Calvin was.  So we decided to go see what our erstwhile companion was up to.  

Calvin had gotten into his moneybag, and thrown the gold and silver coins all over the room.  We explained to him that we would be back in about half a week, but I am not certain if he understood us.

Once we got back to Waterdeep, we formulated a plan, so to speak.  Tobias would go about to the many places that bards knew of, and glean what information he could of the possible whereabouts of this silver dragon.  Ranon would take the gear and things we'd taken from the bandits, and the men from the bridge and sell it all, then take Navarro's preserved head, and get the reward for killing him.  Hank stated that he needed to replenish his herbs, and that he would take the bits of the black dragon, and the head and take them to a place where the hide could be tanned and the head could be stuffed.  Yes, I know it's odd, but I wanted the head stuffed, so that I might have a trophy of the battle.  

I went to the forge.  I meant to reforged Calvin's shield as quickly as possible.  I had it in my mind that perhaps Calvin's sanity was linked to his shield, seeing as it had been a gift from his church, and what not…and that, maybe if he saw it, good as new, and could wear it again, that he would get better.  I talked to Brian, of course, about what had happened, and what I needed to do, and he agreed.  Sometimes I wonder why he bothers to keep me as an employee, since I am so rarely there, and when I am, it hardly seems I do very much work for him.  Still, I took my time, spent all of a day and deep into the night.  When I was done, Calvin's shield looked as though it had never been sundered…although I could not repair the broken enchantments on it.  Even I was impressed at the work I had done on it, as it was some of my best yet.  Since I was doing so well, I did not stop there.  

I went back to Tobias' and my loft and retrieved the ice steel we had found with the hag in the mere of dead men.  It seemed a very long time ago…  I got a few hours rest, and went right back to work.  Seeing as there was bound to be danger in the mountains where we were going, and it could be a long time before we found the dragon's lair, I decided to catch up on some of the work I meant to do with the ice steel, to better equip the party.  However, since I did not have a lot of time, I decided to keep things simple.  I spent the next three days, barely moving from the forge, resting as little as possible.  The work was simple, and repetitive, after a while, as I was making arrow heads and bolts, but still, I felt a measure of satisfaction when Brian approached me, and asked if he might have some of the arrowheads, as payment for my use of the forge for personal reasons.  I gave them to him, with my thanks, and he mentioned something about "excellent work" and renegotiating our contract.  That will have to wait until later though.  By the night of the forth day back, I had finished nearly a hundred arrowheads, and forty bolts.  I had sent word to Hank earlier to make some shafts and fletching up for the arrows, and he had them ready for me, when I brought them to the tavern, where we all met, later that night.

In Calvin's absence, so to speak, the others seemed to turn to me for instructions, though why that is I cannot fathom.  I told them that they all had one more day to finish up business, and that we would be leaving to find the dragon, the morning after next.  Tobias informed us that he had found a bit of information, mostly that the dragon was said to lair somewhere in the northernmost part of the mountain range, somewhere towards the western edge.  Other than that, he could find nothing else, not even the dragon's name.  It would have to be enough.  Fortunately, we would not have to check out every mountain on foot, seeing as we had Ranon, and Tobias' falcon familiar to scout for us.  We split up the money from the last few encounters, saving aside Calvin's share for him. 

Tobias also did a chore for me, taking the strange gem over to a sage to have it identified with a spell more powerful than what he or I could cast.  Meanwhile, I took a break in my working, to go speak with Celedor for a while.  I felt rather proud, for I have fairly managed to stop speaking about Airk as though he was a different person from myself.  Celedor did tell me that I was making progress.  Still, I explained to him about the dreams.  He was confused, and tried to puzzle things out.  He stated that trauma might be enough to bring such dreams, but that because they seemed more like visions, he was more inclined to think it was some sort of magic, or divine power that was causing them.  He had me think back to everything that I had done up to the point that the first dream started.  Then I remembered… something I had forgotten about in all that has happened since then.

The broken sword of Tempus.  It was still in my bedroll, in the loft.  I only had the dreams when I was there.  Why then, had I had the dream under the bridge, though?  I learned the answer to that quickly enough.  Celedor told me to go get the sword and bring it there, so he could examine it.  I do not know what he hoped to learn, but I complied.  I had gained the weapon, and was on my way back to the church when Tobias ran into me…literally.  He seems to think that I am some sort of break-wall to stop him when he is running.

He told me, in a quite out breath tone, that the gem was some part of a sword of Tempus, some lost artifact.  So the gem was once part of the sword, and that was why I had the dreams…first from the sword, and then under the bridge, because of the gem.

When I brought both items to Celedor, he told me that he was not surprised…that if the broken sword and gem were part of an artifact, even a broken one, it could, indeed be responsible for my dreaming.  

I put the sword on the wall, with the rest of my weapons that I rarely use, and have not had another dream yet.  It was a relief…and yet, I think that when I have some time, I will try to find out more about this sword…particularly where the last piece might be found.  It was a mystery, and I usually enjoy puzzling things out. 

The last day in Waterdeep, I was quite busy.  I bought some enough supplies for myself and Sanhandrian, as well as another glove of storing, so I would not have to carry my axe or sword.  It considerably lightened the load of my adventuring gear.  Later in the day, moving on towards evening, I decided to get a start on locating a way to this Skullport place, as well as finding out a possible location for Handrax.  To that end, I returned, once more to the only real contact I had in the city.  Though he does not say so, I am beginning to suspect that Lord Craulnober is quite influential in Waterdeep, or at least he knows a great many people.  He led us to Navarro, and I could only hope he could help us with the next stage of our search.

He was not at his bar when I arrived, but the barkeep claimed that Elaith would most likely be there in a few hours.  I waited, attempting once more to explain the use of good armor to Sanhandrian.  I think that my familiar is weakening…at least on the armor argument.  I had only a few drinks while I waited, since I wanted to speak with Elaith while my mind was clear.

When he finally arrived, he invited me back to his office without delay.  Once there, I quickly updated him on just about everything that had happened.  His expression darkened when he heard that the shadow thieves were behind the attack.

"Shadow thieves?" he asked.  I nodded.

"Do you know of them?"

"Indeed, though it is to my misfortune, that I do.  If they are behind this, than there is nothing I can do, but aid you in this endeavor.  I can't have shadow thieves causing trouble in the city," Elaith explained.

"We need to find one of them, named Handrax…Navarro said that we would find him in a place called Skullport," I added.  

"I shall see what I can find out for you," Elaith stated.  

"Then once again you have my thanks, and I am in your debt…so far, I wonder if I will ever find us on equal ground again." I laughed.

"Indeed," Elaith replied calmly.  I've noticed that he is a very guarded fellow…very hard to read…but perhaps that comes from being a captain.  With business concluded, I rose to leave, explaining that I might not be back for several days…perhaps even weeks.

"Go.  Do what you must to aid you paladin," he said.  I thanked him once more, and left, to try to get what little rest I could.

We retrieved Calvin from the church, early the next morning.  I don't know what the priests there had done for him, but he seemed far calmer, more lucid than before.  He grinned when I gave him his shield back, and remarked that it looked better than before.  He put it on what remained of his lower arm.  I had widened and tightened the straps so that they would fit there.  That way he need not feel the limb was useless.  He was not quite Calvin again, though, so we headed out.  I noticed that the paladin had made a new purchase, as we left the city.  Strapped to his horse was a gleaming, new lance.  I wondered if he knew how to use it.

So we traveled north towards the Sword Mountains for three days, on the trade road.  We had been up this way a long time ago, back when we had fought the goblins that had been harassing the trading coster. Once we reached the northern edge of the range, we left the road and began moving westwards.  We had Ranon and the falcon flying into the upper reaches of the mountains, keeping a look out for any large caves or crevasses that could contain a dragon.  

The human goddess of Luck, Tymora must have been smiling on us, for we found the cave on our forth day out from Waterdeep.  Ranon caught sight of a huge, gaping cave mouth in one of the mountains, a few miles in.  He flew back to tell us this, then just as quickly turned around and told us he would "scout" the cave.  We all yelled for him to turn back, but he ignored us for some damned reason.  Stupid dwarf…the last thing we needed was for him to go in and anger the dragon before we had the chance to explain why we were there.

Fortunately, Tobias' falcon knew the way, and we followed it inward, towards the mountain.  It took us the better part of the morning to reach the mountain, and another hour or so to navigate our way up to the cave.  As soon as we got within sight of the cave, Ranon flapped up, his beard looking singed, his expression grave.

"Uh…do silver dragons breath fire?" he asked, nervously.

"No," I replied, irritatedly.  "Only red dragons do…oh."  I realized what Ranon meant.

"Could there be two dragons in the area?" Tobias mused.  I shrugged.

"I don't see why not…but a red and a silver…they would come to blows after a while."  Just then, Hank pointed something out…a glimpse of red in a deep crevasse near the cave.  The others were too nervous to check, so I went to the edge and looked down.  Sure enough, the red was a red dragon…a dead one, that is.  Its neck was broken, and there were large gash marks near its throat.  The dragon itself was huge.  Far larger than the black we had fought.  But the claws marks in its corpse were bigger still…the silver?

I returned and told them what I had found.  After a bit of debate, we decided to have someone sneak up, invisible, to the cave entrance, and see what was going on inside.  Perhaps the fire that Ranon had felt was from another red…but perhaps there was a battle going on.  If so, we could try to aid the silver, and she would have to give us what we wanted then.

At that point, Calvin piped up, asking why it was, exactly, that we were there.  The others and I exchanged glances.

"Should we tell him the truth?" Tobias asked me, in ancient elven…a language we knew that none of the others knew how to speak.  I shook my head.  

"Not yet…I don't want him balking, if it comes to a fight."

"Speak in a language that we all understand," Calvin demanded, sounding irritated.

"Look, we are here for a very important reason, but there's no time to explain now.  Just trust that we will tell you everything when this is through," I told him.  He seemed to think about it.  Then sighed, and nodded.

"Now then, since you are so found of scouting, I think you should do the honors, Ranon."  The cleric seemed to be about to object, then changed him mind, and nodded.  Tobias cast the appropriate spell, and Ranon, now invisible, sneaked into the cave.  

He came running back out, not three minutes later, and gasped out what he had seen.  

"Silver…dead…smashed eggs…red…lots of red…dead…one alive…huge…eating the silver…" Ranon gagged; a strange reaction from one who is so used to dealing with blood and wounds. 

"Slow down…explain, slower," I demanded.  He complied.  The silver dragon was in the cave, but she was dead.  Scattered about the cave were four more red dragon corpses…the same size as the one in the crevasse.  There was still one red left, wounded, but alive, eating the corpse.  The silver had apparently been nesting, for Ranon claimed there were smashed eggshells all over.  That was probably why the reds had attacked…it was know that the chromatic dragons loved to eat the eggs and hatchlings of the goodly dragons.  

My anger burned, almost to the killing edge.  Silver dragons were something I was very familiar with.  With had several on Evermeet…golds as well.  They were said to be some of the most graceful, powerful creatures in existence…friends to the elves since ages past.  I had always envied the dragon riders of Evermeet, for their bonds with the dragons…and admired them.  To know that such evil had attacked and killed, not only a silver, but her brood as well…the thought sickened me, and made me furious.  How dare they?!  

       And the red was wounded…I turned to the others and presented them with the idea that had immediately jumped into my mind.

       "We attack…we need what is in there for one thing…and we cannot let this abomination go unchecked.  It's wounded…so we have a chance.  We fought one dragon and triumphed…"

       "Barely," Hank pointed out, dryly.  "And this one is considerably bigger."

       "But evil…damnit…and wounded.  We can do this…how many chances will we ever get, like this?  That…creature in there has killed one of the greatest goods in all of Faerun!  I do not wish to let it roam unchecked…to get away with its deed!  Calvin?" I turned to the paladin…he was, in a way, our leader, although he would, I think, hesitate to agree to the title, should we have put it too him.  Still the others respected his word…even so wounded as he was.  He nodded slowly.

       "I think we should do it…though I would know why we came here in the first place…later," he added.

       "Ranon?"

       "Aye," the cleric nodded, pulling out his mace, grimly.  I knew he had been shocked by the sight, horrified by it.

       "Tobias?"

       "Oh, why not?" he shrugged.  "We've come this far…besides, think of the coin we can get for the hides of the reds," he grinned.

       "Hank?"  The other dwarf seemed to think for a moment.

       "I think we'll probably be killed…but it is the right thing to do."  He nodded.

       So we came up with a plan.  We prepared our weapons, and our spells, protective and offensive.  Calvin volunteered to be the one to attack first…to charge the dragon, he held up his lance, with a grin.  Ranon cast spells of fire protection on both Calvin and the horse.  The rest of us, we decided, would use the cover of some of the red corpses to hide behind, and begin with missile attacks…arrows and bolts…trying to stay away from the dragon for as long as possible.  Inevitably, we would have to move into melee combat, though, and so we prepared spells for the occasion…

       Hoping that dragons could not see through invisibility, Tobias cast the spell on all of us.  A final spell of silence, assured that the dragon would not hear us coming, either.  So we moved in.

       Entering the cave, and moving quickly into position, I was more shocked at the sight before us than I thought to be.  The silver must have put up a great fight, for there were scorch marks, and claws marks everywhere.  He hoard was scattered about, and all of her eggs…were smashed.  Her body was lying near the bulk of her hoard, broken and battered, her head almost severed from her neck.  The last red dragon stood over the corpse, back to us, eating…the element of surprise was with us, but we had moments only, until it would hear, or scent us out.  Directly on either side of the cave entrance, there were the bodies of two red dragons.  The party split, as we had planned.  Tobias and I went behind one dragon, while the dwarves went behind the other.  As soon as Calvin attacked, and broke his invisibility, we would, all four of us, use our bows and crossbows, to try to keep the dragon from us for as long as possible.

       Calvin charged, silenced by Tobias' spell.  The dragon roared suddenly, as Calvin's new lance pierced its back.  It reared up, opening up several of the wounds near its neck.  I stepped from around the corpse, took aim and fired.  My arrow had been enchanted to become three instead of one, when fired.  The first arrow buried itself into one of the dragon's wounds, brining forth another roar.  The second and third struck true, as well.  Arrows and bolts flew out from Ranon and Hank's hiding spot as well.  Several struck the dragon, but not all pierced its scales. I heard the low chanting of Ranon's prayer…behind me, of Tobias' spells and songs.  Calvin abandoned his spear, and kept riding, past the wyrm, and behind another corpse, no doubt drawing his sword, and preparing for another ride by attack.  

       The dragon turned…saw me, and roared again.  I heard Tobias falter, cry out in fear, and though I did feel dread at looking up at the huge red, I shrugged it off.  It is not in my nature to be afraid…not anymore.  The dragon fixed its baleful gaze on me…the only one he could see, no doubt.  I had bare seconds to react, throwing aside my bow and summoning my sword.  The dragon…pounced, is the best way I can describe it.  It just jumped from its position, to directly in front of me.  Before I could attack, though, its tale swept around and connected with my chest.  The force of the blow threw me backwards, some twenty feet, into the stone walls of the cave.  The impact stunned, for the dragon's strength was so great that the stone where I had hit, was cracked.  I rather had a suspicion that several of my ribs were as well, but I was not deterred.  

       Calvin rode by again, slashing at the dragon with his longsword, as I pulled my self out of the wall, and off the ground.  The dragon turned towards the paladin, and though I could not see Tobias, I could hear his song begin, feel extra strength surge through me as the magic in his voice took effect.

       I could not see Hank or Ranon, but knew that they were there, heard the yells and prayers.  I got close enough to attack again, and hurled my great sword at the dragon with great force.  It imbedded in the wyrm's shoulder, going more than halfway in.  Again, it roared, the sound seeming to shake the very floor of the cave.  It swiped at Calvin, the claw flinging the paladin from his saddle. He landed with a clatter, but immediately gained his feet again, as he ordered his horse away.  Then the dragon fixed its attention on me.  

       I summoned my axe, but not quickly enough, for it jumped again, this time, landing on me.  For a moment, I was unable to breath, the massive weight of the dragon squeezing the air from my lungs.  I could do nothing, for its claws had me pinned.  For a moment, I though I might die, suffocated and crushed…but the dragon had other plans.  It grabbed me, lifting me from the ground, claws piercing my armor, painfully.  It looked at a spot on the wall, near the cave entrance.  Though I saw nothing there, I heard Tobias singing, still invisible.  Apparently the dragon was able to see though invisibility, or perhaps its sense of scent was so strong that it knew where Tobias was, regardless.  The dragon flung me…right at Tobias, claws rending my flesh, causing more wounds, as it did.  I landed heavily on the bard, whose song died with a squeak.  Though he saved me from further damage, I do not imagine that Tobias was unscathed from my landing on him…I am fairly heavy.

       I sat up slowly, for my wounds were very bad.  There were several large punctures, all bleeding freely.  I rose to return to the fight, and Calvin ran up, and used his paladin's ability to heal me.  The worse of the wounds closed, and the bleeding ceased.  

       Meanwhile, the dragon had jumped again, and the dwarves were having a go at the red.  Ranon was airborne, smashing the dragon in the head with his mace, as he flew by.  Hank was still using his bow, still trying to use the corpse as cover.  I picked up my axe, and turned to Tobias, who was looked pale and frightened.

       "I rage now…but if I fall in the rage, I doubt I will survive," I told him.  He nodded, understanding.  

       "We won't let you fall," he stated.  I knew that he…or Ranon would try to heal me, for once in the rage, I could not heal myself.  I looked to where the dragon stood, and began to run towards it.  I rose to the killing edge, and attacked, with a roar to my god.

       The rest of the battle blurs in my memory.  There was fire, as the dragon breathed at us, catching some of us in the breath.  I know that my clothes were burned away, and that my armor only survived because of the enchantment on it.  Hank was burned badly, but did not die.  The others kept their distance, still using spells, and ranged weapons to attack with, while Calvin and I were the only ones who stayed up close to the dragon.  I know I took several more hits…clawed and bitten by the dragon.  In the end, the force of our attacks, and the dragon's own weakened state conspired against it.  Calvin and I barely managed to get out of the way, as it fell, dead to the floor, joining the rest of the corpses.  I know that I hacked at it a bit more before dropping out of my rage, so angered was I at the loss of the silver dragon.  

       When the battle was done, and when Ranon and Tobias and Hank had finished healing everyone as much as they could, we looked about the cavern for what we had originally come for.  

       We found the arm, easily enough…a man sized appendage of solid mithral, with runes marked all over it.  We brought it over to Calvin, and explained to him that it was the reason we had come…to find this for him.  He looked at it suspiciously for a moment, noting the symbol of Tyr marked on it.  Tobias explained the story that the high priest had told us.  Calvin seemed to consider things for a while, and then seemed to come to a decision.

       "If it is made by Tyr, and if the high priest thinks this to be a good idea, and since we have come so far…then how can I not try it?" Tobias handed the arm to the paladin, and said that he should place it against the stump of his arm.  Calvin did as told…and then doubled over, howling in pain.  We watched as the arm destroyed what remained of Calvin's arm…all the way up to his shoulder, and grew to replace it.  After a few moments, the arm was fully attached, and had fitted itself to match Calvin's other arm in size.  Calvin sat up, and looked down at his new limb in wonder, face pale from pain.  The hand suddenly moved, and he almost seemed shocked by it, jumping a little.

       "There is no feeling…but I can move it, as though it were my real arm," he told us.  The hand twitched, convulsively.

       "This will take some getting used to," he smiled.  

       With Calvin taken care of, we all sat down to rest, and make some decisions.  The silver was dead, and so her hoard was ours.  Part of me wanted to refuse it, but I knew that it was foolish…if we did not take it, another group of adventurers would find it, and they would. However, the amount of gold was a great deal…more than we could carry, even with Calvin's horse.  Add to that the skins and claws, and so forth that we meant to take from the reds, and we would need at least two wagons to haul it all back to Waterdeep.  So, it was decided that we would send Calvin and Ranon back to get some wagons, while the rest of us stayed behind to guard the dragons and treasure.  Calvin would go because he knew the most people in Waterdeep, and could get the wagons easiest…he was acting much saner.  Hank and I would stay, mainly because we both knew of skinning, and I, of tanning…just a bit.  We would be able to remove the skins, and be done by the time the others returned.  Ranon we sent because he has wings, and can fly if the need arises.  And Tobias stayed because he is, in the long run, worthless beyond his spells and songs.  Besides, Hank and I would have him skinning with us before long.

       So it was set.  Ranon and Calvin left in the morning, with as much gold as they could carry.  Ranon had been given the key to the loft, as well as a note to Hacasian explaining who he was, and why he was there.  Ranon would leave the gold there, where it would be safe, and fetch me some new clothes…seeing as the only pair I has brought with, had been burned off, and I had forgotten to bring extras.  Hank had the same problem, and we were both wearing little more than our cloaks, and makeshift underclothes.  

       Once the others left, we three got to work.  We showed Tobias what to do, and left him to muddle his way through skinning one of the reds.  Hank was outside, working on the one we had seen, down in the crevasse.  I was piling the remaining gold and such in the corner, when I came across something I did not wish the others to see.

       Beneath one of the silver's claws, protected by a cocoon of gold, I found an egg…a whole one that had not been destroyed by the battle.  It was about the size of my head, with a dull, silver shell.  I gingerly lifted it out, and inspected it, finding no cracks.  The egg was warm to the touch, and as I held it, I could have sworn there was a whisper soft movement within it.  

       Needless to say, I was quite shocked at what I had found…and even more protective.  I thought for a few moments what to do.  Should I tell the others, or no?  What should be done with the egg… and so on.  It did not take me long to come to a decision.  I quickly went to my backpack, and emptied it of everything I did not need.  I wrapped the egg carefully in the blanket from my bedroll, and placed it into the pack.  It would be my secret.  I would not tell the other about it, if I could help it.  I feel I must explain why I came to this decision.  

       Hank and I had had an argument earlier.  He was a druid, and so thought that nothing should be left to waste.  He stated his intention to skin the silver as well.  I argued, stating that she had fought nobly, and should be left intact…to her rest.  I did not like the idea of defiling the silver's corpse, and thought that even if we did skin her, that only an evil person would which to wear her scales.  Hank told me I was being a fool, that she had given her life, true, but that, by taking her scales and using them, she would continue to help others, even after death.  I finally gave up on the argument, especially when I got no aid from Tobias on the topic.  I told Hank to do what he liked, but that I would have nothing to do with it…I would not skin her, cure the hide, nor use the scales.  Hank shrugged, indifferent, as always.  

       Then I found the egg, and I thought of what the others might do if they knew.  Corellon knows, I trust the dwarves in that they are my companions, and competent in their jobs, both of them…but to deal with something like a dragon egg…no, I cannot trust them.  Hank was willing to sell the silver's skin…I would not allow him the temptation to have an egg to sell.  I am certain there would be hundreds of people willing to buy…and I will not let that happen.  Tobias is an elf, true enough, but sometimes he is particularly odd…he doesn't act like the elves on Evermeet.  I may trust him with my life, but I do not know how he would deal with this…he's far too flighty for the responsibility…I dare not let him know, either.  Finally, there is Calvin, the one whom I was actually trust the most to care for the egg as it should be looked after, but on the other hand, he is a human…humans see most dragons as creatures only to be conquered, for one thing and even though I do not think Calvin is such, I don't feel that he's stable enough to deal with anything more than his new arm at the moment.  Besides, Calvin pays too much attention to his horse…he would not be able to devote as much of his time to the egg as I can.  

       No…I will not tell the others of this, not unless a situation arises, dire enough for me to do so.  It will be my secret.  I will take care of the egg, guard it, and if it hatches, I will take care of the baby dragon as well.  I think of the many stories I have read…all the way back to the tale of Durothil.  He had once found and raised a silver dragon from the egg, with little knowledge on what to do.  I could certainly do the same…better, even that that ancient gold elf.  And if all goes well, I will certainly not let my dragon be killed by a red dragon. I will protect it from its mother's fate, and take it back to Evermeet, where it will be safe.

       Besides all of that…there is one more reason…and I must be honest with myself.  There is part of me that will always remember being a sickly child who could hardly walk without wheezing.  As that child, I read books and stories by the hundreds.  I would dream of being a warrior…and so I am one, now.  I dreamt of greatness, but not as a high mage…no. One of my fondest wish was to be a members of the royal guard, like Elaith…and even more rarely, I dreamt of being a great rider in the elven army, much like many of my fellow Nightstars are.  An eagle rider perhaps…and yes, I dreamt of being a dragon rider.  I knew, as that child, that none of that would ever come to pass.  But things are different now.  Everything has changed.  I have changed.  I still doubt my chances at being welcomed into any of those professions…at this point; I doubt that my welcome back to Evermeet would be a warm one.  I am a freak among elves, now…I know this, though Celedor tries to convince me otherwise.  I am certain that my cousin, Sylthas, should he still live, will not be glad to see me back…for in my absence, he is the heir.  My aunt and u8ncle may not want me back…and my parents…well.  I do not really wish to speak of them.

       My point is, that this is my only chance to be what I once dreamt of…a dragon rider.  If I could keep the egg safe, then the hatchling, I could raise it.  It would take a long time, certainly, for dragons age even more slowly than elves, but the hatchling would grow up.  I would be the one who raised it, so it would…hopefully, look to me as a child looks to a parent…or at the very least, as a friend.  Then, perhaps, I could convince it that I would be a good rider.  Perhaps, then, the elves would not care that I was a freak, only that I was a dragon rider, and a Nightstar.  It might work…it could work…but only if I keep the egg a secret.  I can't let the others know.  This is my only chance, and if it seems selfish, I cannot say that I care much. Everything I care about eventually is taken from me, and it is a hard battle to get back what I have lost.  As Corellon is my witness, I will not lose this chance…and I will not let any one take this egg from me.  

       It took a total of six days for Calvin and Ranon to return, with wagons.  Unfortunately, we could not get them up the mountain, so we had to carry everything else down…the skins, claws teeth, and so on.  It took us three days to get back, and those days passed without incident.

       We were given odd looks when we passed through the city gates.  I imagine that, despite our decision to try to keep things quiet about what had happened, that word would get out soon enough.  After all, hadn't we come back with two wagons, laden down with red dragon skins?

       The next few days I spent working…working a great deal.  I notice, that the others seem to think that, because I can tan skins and work leather, and because I work as a smith, that I am able to make or do anything pertaining to weapons and armor.  As it is, I have spent the past three days working the days, forging the ice steel into weapons and so on…basically they gave me a list and told me to make all of this.  I hardly recall being asked, but I am an idiot, and agreed to do the work, just the same.  Naturally, I had to give some of the things I made to Brian.  That is pretty much the deal I have with him now.  I am allowed to use the forge, as I wish, but on the condition that I must make at least one extra item, which I must give to him as payment.  I can still make money by doing normal work there as well.  He explained, that it the case of the ice steel, that it was a very hard to find metal, and I was an excellent smith…that he could make a great profit.  I didn't much care either way.

       At night, I managed to work on something for myself…mainly, a suit of red dragon skin leather armor.  I am nearly done, and am thinking about trading in my old armor, and getting this suit enchanted, as I am rather proud of the job I have done on it.  The skin is reddish tinged, and I sewed on several patches of scales in critical areas.  I have to finish up the design on the front, which will…naturally enough, be a dragon.  

       The others wanted me to make armor for them as well, but didn't seem to understand that I don't have enough bloody time in a day to make everything that they wish me to.  Not only that, but I'm really not all that skilled in making things out of dragon scales, seeing as I have never had the chance to before. I've hardly gotten more than a few hours of rest the past few days, and Sanhandrian is getting irritated with me, seeing as I haven't been paying much attention to him…although, he does seem to like the tiny suit of leather armor I made him, far better than the mithral chain.

       Still, I did take the time to go down to the wizard's guild, seeing as I wanted a special familiar pocket made that would be able to carry both the dragon egg…and possibly hatchling, and Sanhandrian as well.  I also wanted to find a book on silver dragons…hatchlings in particular, and a blanket that would keep the egg magically warmed.

       The book and blanket I found easily enough, and for a fair enough price.  However, I got rather irritated when I spoke with a mage about possibly enchanting my armor, only to find out that the man was a cheat.  He wasn't even trying to be sneaky about it, like he thought I was a fool, just because I do not look like a wizard!  So, I left, deciding to find a free-lance wizard to make the familiar pocket, rather than a guild wizard.  And believe me, I will not be sending any one to those…cheats for business, any time soon.

       I did manage to find a wizard willing to make the pocket, for a price that I knew was fair…better than any price I would have gotten at the guild, anyhow.  It will be done by the middle of the week.  

       I went to work again the next day, and finished up a set of mugs that Tobias had wanted to have made.  He said that since he supplied the party with all of their liquor…which he did…in fact he'd had a device of storing made, just for the sole purpose of storing his drinks and wines, and so on.  Actually, I was particularly proud of the mugs for some reason.  The cup part of each one was made of ice steels, and the handles of wood.  I'd used some gold and silver to create designs on each one.  Since there was one mug for each member of the party, I thought I was particularly clever, in that I put the symbol of the god each one of us followed, on the mugs.  Mine had Corellon, of course.  Tobias' bore Hanali's symbol…womanly symbol, though it is.  Hank's was for his goddess, Meilikki.  Ranon's was Beronar, and Calvin's was, of course, Tyr.  

       So, after I had finished up for the day, I decided not to go back to the loft, seeing as I was done with my armor, and did not particularly want to spend another night locked up in the room.  So I went to the usual bar, only to find that none of the others were there, for once.  Out, no doubt, harassing some other craftsman into doing work for them.

       Besides, I talk to them all the time, and drink with them even more often.  Since I was fairly tired from doing work…on items they had requested I make…with no payment for my work, I might add…I decided that I didn't care to look for them anyhow.  

       So I wandered about for a bit, sampling the beverages of the various taverns in the area, so by the time I reached the Trade Ward, I was a bit…calmer.

       That was where I met Rosaleen.  She was waiting the tables at a bar called the Dancing Dagger…a human wench, who was definitely on the fair side.  She had very pretty blond curls, and wide blue eyes. Except for that she was short, and more curvy, she rather reminded me a bit of some of the Ruathym women.  She's very pretty.  So I talked to her, smiling my very best smile, and trying not to do whatever it was I had done to make that girl back in Grassguard laugh at me.  I didn't call her wench, and I remembered to tell her how nice she looked.

       I don't know what I did differently…or if she was just simple, but she smiled back at me, and told me to wait until she got off work…then we could go somewhere and…talk.  So I waited.  As I told Tobias once, I am not above interest in human women…after all…there are no elven women about, anyhow.

       Now, as I am not a crass person, and as I still do remember some of my manners, I will not go into detail on what occurred between Rosaleen and myself.  Suffice to say that we went back to the loft together.  She seemed quiet enamored of me, for some reason I can explain.  She initiated everything, when she kissed me, quite suddenly.  It was the first time I have ever been kissed, and it was certainly not an unpleasant experience.  She did not draw back when returned the gesture.  Things went considerably further from there.     

       Now, I can hardly help but compare having sex with a very willing, and somewhat experienced Rosaleen with my first… experience.  I have come to the conclusion that a willing partner in the act is a vast improvement over an unwilling one, and I do not understand how so many men can enjoy raping women. The sound of a woman's moans is far preferable to her tears.  It confuses me, but then, perhaps it has something to do with being human, which I am not.

       In any case, Rosaleen spent the night with me…I vaguely recall Tobias coming in at some point, making a rude comment, which I threw a boot at him for…then he left.

     When I got up to go to work the next morning, Rosaleen also dressed and left, stating that, she, too, had work.  She did add, however, that she would certainly not mind it if I visited her at the tavern again, and reminded me of the hour that she would be finished with her job for the night. I suppose that I do not have to say that I did go back to see her, and she did come back to the loft again with me…every night, for the rest of the week. 

       By the end of the week, I had finished all the work to be done with the ice steel, and my familiar pocket was done, the dragon egg wrapped in the blanket of warming, and stowed safely within.  It was rather a good thing, though, for I received a message to meet with Elaith not a day after I was done.

       So, I went to speak with him.  He had the information I had requested.  He had learned that Handrax was at an inn called the Hellhound's Muzzle in Skullport, near one of the Undermountain exits.  Undermountain, he explain was a series of tunnels…very dangerous routes to get from Waterdeep down into Skullport. He explained that there was only two ways to get to Skullport…by way of Undermountain, and by boat.  I told him to wait to explain the details until after I had spoken with the others.  He nodded, and told me to bring them to see him so that I would not have to repeat things more than once.

       So I sought out Tobias, and made him go get everyone else.  When everyone was together, several hours later, I explained what was going on.  Then I took them all to meet with Elaith.

       There was a bit of an awkward moment when I introduced them all to Elaith.  It went well enough until I got to Tobias.  When I told Elaith his name, Elaith raised his eyebrow, skeptically.  In irritation, I mentioned that Tobias was not his real name, of course, but that the bard had yet to consider anyone in the party worthy enough to know his elven name.  I suppose I must have sounded angry, and in a way I was.  I had entrusted Tobias with my true name shortly after we had begun adventuring…and though he used me as protection, and a shield to hide behind in dangerous moments…though he followed me around all the time, he had yet to extend the same courtesy.  

       The he really annoyed me.

       "You never asked what my name was," Tobias protested.  

       "I did so!" I almost shouted.  "Back when we fought the orcs…I told you my name, but you refused to give yours!"  He shrugged.

       "Don't get so huffy…my name's Raede, if it's so important."  And with that, he made me seem like a temperamental child for asking what should have only been common courtesy from one elf to another.  Fortunately, Elaith interrupted, and stated that there were more important things for us to be worried about at the moment.    

Elaith explained our options, saying that Undermountain was dangerous, but that so was the way by boat.  He added that when we got to Skullport, there were be all sorts of unsavory creatures there…beholders, illithids…drow.  He looked at me, in particular, and stated, that no matter how much we might dislike what we saw, that none of us should start trouble, or attack anything in Skullport…including the drow…that there were creatures who "ran" the city of Skullport called Skulls, that would kill us, or worse for any trouble we caused.

       I wanted to go by boat, thinking it would be easier, but there was, unfortunately, no boats going down to Skullport.  So we opted for the walking…once again under ground, in the dark, and so on.  I truly do hate being under ground, I have decided.  There is little quite as daunting as thousands of feet or stone hanging above one's head.

       Elaith told us to go to a place in Waterdeep called the yawning portal.  There was a magical entrance to Undermountain there, guarded by the owner of the tavern, a human by the name of Durand.  On our way, out, he mentioned to us that we should not mention his name to the human, for he and Durand were not on the best of terms.  I didn't see anything odd about the statement, but as I found out later, it appeared that Ranon did not particularly "like" what Elaith had said for some reason.

       So we grabbed our things, weapons and the like, and headed for the yawning portal the following morning.  The Durand fellow apparently did not have any problem with our choice to go to Undermountain, saying that he got adventurers coming through all the time with the same request.  All the same, he warned us that it was dangerous…but we were determined to go.

       We walked through the portal, and a moment later, we were in a pitch-black tunnel, slightly disoriented, with the definite feeling that the surface was far away,

       So we made our way downward, following the directions given us by Elaith as best we could.  Magical torches and lights, cast by Tobias and Ranon lit the way…and unfortunately seemed to draw unwanted attention.  Tobias was attacked by a creature know as a cloaker at one point…and I think we did more damage to him, trying to get it off of him, that the monster itself, did.  

       There was a second attack a few hours? later.  This time it was three displacer beasts. The beasts looked a bit like panthers with tentacles coming from their sides, and six legs instead of two.  It took us a bit of time to realize that they were not standing where they appeared, but several feet away from the location we saw.  Once we figured that out, they were little enough hindrance to us.  I skinned the creatures, for they had fine pelts, and Tobias mentioned that, should we wish, we might be able to make cloaks out of them that would grant a similar "displacement" ability.

       Ever onward and downward we went.  It was impossible to tell how much time was passing.  It might have been a few hours, or an entire day.  A while after we battled with the displacers, we entered a huge cavern. The first thing I noticed were the webs, clinging to the walls, and the ceiling, wrapped around the stalagmites and stalactites.  Then a bolt of lightning shot out from a corner at us, and there was a distinct sound of many legs scuttling about in the darkness.

       Most of us managed to get out of the way of the lightning bolt, except for Ranon who seemed to trip and fall right into the path.  The dwarf priests was not killed, by the strength of bolt destroyed many of his magical items, including one of his maces and his armor.  I just know that some one will be asked to repair both…and I know for certain that it will be me who gets tricked into it, damn it all.

       In a counter move, I snapped my axe into my hand, and used one of the enchantments on it: the Everbright enchantment.  I had completely forgotten about it until that moment.  A blinding flash of light lit up the cave, then dulled to a glow, reminiscent of a torch.  Hopefully it blinded a few of our attackers.

       The attackers turned out to be driders…a foul crossing of drow elves and spiders.  They attacked us with spells, and weapons both.  Strange to tell, I did not enter a rage against them, for I wished to both remember and savor the battle, gratified in knowing that if I could not kill the drow I would inevitably be meeting in Skullport, then I could at least slaughter some loathsome driders.  

       And slaughter them we did.  Though they were tough, and we all took wounds, in did not take long for myself and the rest of the party to prove victorious.  We hacked them apart with our own spells and weapons, and the driders died amidst their own chittering shrieks.  

       When the battle had concluded, I approached the webs, and startled the party, I think, when I cast a spell of burning hands at it.  The web went up faster than a field of dried grass in an arid season.  Naturally I was yelled at for my foolishness when the bodies of the driders' victims fell from the webs, one almost hitting the dwarves.  Still, I wanted to make certain that we had gotten all of them.  Besides, we found a bit of treasure among the bodies and webs, things taken by the driders from people they had killed.  There were quite a few gems, and a few other items as well.  They did not object so strongly to treasure, I noted.

       We rested for a while in the cave, now free from vermin, regaining spells, and being healed by Ranon.  We got moving again, once everyone seemed rejuvenated by rest.  On a curious note, when I went to check the egg, as I do often, I found a small rodent in the pocket, curled up in the blanket of warmth.  I pulled it out and stared at it, confused.  How had it gotten there?  I doubted it could have crawled in…Maybe it was a fluke…I don't know.  All the same, I gave the thing…something called a hamster, to Hank.  Tobias started to pester me about what I was hiding, and I think I shocked him a bit, when I refused to tell him.  I guess he took it for granted that he could badger any information he wants out of me…but this time I will hold firm, damn it.

       I do not think it was more than another day, when we entered another large cavern.  This one contained a huge, one-eyed skull, big enough for us to walk through.  This, then, was the entrance to Skullport that Elaith had described to us.  We stood, awed for a moment by the sight, before entering.

       Immediately behind the skull, we walked out onto what appeared to be the petrified body of a huge purple worm.  There was a set of stairs leading down to a veritable maze of rickety catwalks.  Even farther below, we could see lights, and the shadows of buildings.  We had made it to the upper level of Skullport.

           I was immediately disturbed by the blatant evil of the place, and shivered at the feeling of magic…but a twisted magic…like a mythal gone wrong, I thought.

       We climbed down, each of us somewhat disturbed by the place, I believe.  There were scores of people moving about on the catwalk streets…people, and creatures.  Within the first ten minutes we saw humans, drow a beholder, several groups of gray, duegar dwarves, and a small group of illithids…the latter of which Tobias managed to annoy, remarking that their faces looked somewhat like what one would find in a salad.  Needless to say he was properly chastened when the illithids…mind-flayers, compelled Tobias to his knees and forced him to apologize for the insult.  I was more shocked, in that Tobias managed to keep his mouth shut for the next five minutes, or so.

       I sought out a semi-decent looking human, and stepped in the man's path.  He stopped instantly, looking up bewildered.  

       "Can I help…oh…you're rather large," he commented.

       "Where can we find the Hellhound's Muzzle?" I named the inn       where Elaith had stated that we might be able to locate Handrax.

       The man gave us a rambling set of instructions, which we immediately began following.

       We made our way down to the next level, and were heading towards the third level.  We passed by literally dozens of drow.  I could not help but glare at them as they walked by, wandering about, plotting nefarious deeds, no doubt.  I managed to control my temper, for which I am glad, for I did not wish to meet any of the "skulls" Elaith had spoken of.  Still, I could not help retching, when one of the drow women who passed by grinned wickedly at me, and winked, suggestively.  I hardly managed to keep my previous meal in my stomach.  The very idea…a drow…it sickened me.  The others seemed concerned, and Hank handed me some herbal concoction to drink, which calmed my stomach.  They didn't understand, naturally.  Why should they?  It was not their worst enemy who had winked at them, now was it?  Miserable little drow bitch.  By Corellon, the whole bloody race should be wiped off the face of Toril, and we would all be the better for it.

       I managed to get a hold of myself after a moment, hating that I was showing any weakness in front of the others.  Not that it matters, anyhow, I suppose.  I have heard them speaking…I know they think me mad.  

       We were nearly to the way down to the next level, when we passed by an alleyway, and Calvin suddenly ground to a halt.  I hardly managed to avoid running into him, and asked what he was about.  He peered into the alley, as though curious.  I stood still, and told Tobias to shut up, long enough to hear something…. something I did not wish to hear…the panicked cry of a woman…and the distinctive grunting and jeering of male voices...

       Before I could think twice about it, I strode into the alleyway to see what was happening…though in my heart, I think I already knew.  There were four orc…or perhaps half-orc men…it is so hard to tell…in the back of the alley.  One stood guard, while the other three blocked my view.  

       Now you must give me credit, I did try reason.  Not that the disgusting orc spoke common anyhow.  I warned it to move, but it refused.  I struck it once in the face, and he returned the favor, slamming a fist into my gut.  Angered, I hit him again, and this time it dropped.  I steeped over the body, hardly noticing that Calvin had come up behind me.  I caught a glimpse of what the orcs were doing.  Two of them were watching as the third held down a young human woman.  He was raping her.  She had brown hair.  

       I did not rage, but I wanted to, at the sight.  It sickened me…even more than the drow bitch had.  Even if it meant my life, or torture by the skulls, I could not have allowed them to continue their deeds.  She cried out for help, and I answered that cry.  My axe snapped into my hands, and I beheaded first one, then the second of the pair watching.  I jerked the last…the rapist up but the back of his neck, and saw fear in his piggy little eyes…just for a moment, before I cleaved him in two.  Tobias came up from behind me, as did the rest of the party.  My fellow elf handed me the head of one of the orcs and asked me if I wanted it back…like it was some sort of joke.  I tossed it away, and glared at him, then reached down, and gently…at least as gentle as I know how to be, helped the poor girl to her feet.  I stared at her, as Ranon pushed past me, healing her wounds.  In my mind, for a moment, she was the girl I had raped.  I saw myself as those orcs, and realized once more what a truly horrible creature I had become.  There will never be enough I can do to repay the pain I have inflicted on people who did not deserve it.  I am a disgrace to the elves…they will never welcome me back…no matter if I had a dozen silver dragons with me. 

       We talked quietly, and decided to escort the girl back to where she lived.  Her voice was faint as she whispered the name of an inn to us.  Perhaps she feared that we had only rescued her to do her more harm.  Her skin was very pale…and she was shaking.  And I had done this same thing to someone… I thought of Rosaleen…how she smiled and laughed when she was with me.  She had been impressed…or so she said, by my strength, my size…that I am a warrior…would she still feel that way if I told her what I really was?  I liked Rosaleen…she makes me smile…and Corellon knows I enjoy being with her, if you know what I mean…but to think that anyone could hurt her…would rape her…it makes me ill.  What if this girl…this bar wench we had saved had been like Rosaleen?  What if the orcs had crushed the brightness out of her spirit?  She seemed so broken and scared…like a kitten that some one had kicked.  What if the girl I had hurt had been like Rosaleen…all smiles and laughter? What if she was like this now…because of me?

       We brought her back to her inn, where I gathered she worked.  It was a place not far from the port in Skullport, and the bar, a fairly dilapated place, was filled with all manner of drunk sailors, who leered at her as we walked in.  I gave my very best glare, and was rather glad to see a path clear before us.  Apparently no one wanted to deal with my anger.  And I think on that, and wonder, have I become such a person that people innately fear me in I do look happy?  Is this truly what I wanted? To be feared?  I cannot think so.  Fear is a far cry from respect, and thinking now on things that my party members have said, off-handedly…I know that they do not respect me.  They fear me, and they fear my temper.  I cannot call them friends…friends are not afraid of one another…they do not flinch when the other frowns.  And yet, that is what most of the others do to me.

       Dear Corellon…what have I become?!     

       We brought the girl up to the woman who seemed to be the owner of the place.  She was a large, tough-looking wench, with the foulest mouth I have ever heard on a member of the fairer sex.  It took me raising my voice to get her attention.  When she saw the girl, she rounded on us, looking fair ready to kill, as she demanded to know what had happened.  We explained what we had seen, and done.  She nodded, and took the girl behind the bar, called to another girl who led the first away.  I guess that the boorish wench thought we had come for a reward, for she offered us a round of the house brew.  I did not particularly want any, but she seemed insulted when Calvin tried to decline his mug, so I did not even bother. The liquor was thick, and a brownish hue of black that looked more like sludge.  I drank about half the mug, hardly managing to keep from gagging at the flavor.  Still, it burned its way down my throat, and continued smoldering in my belly. That small amount was enough to relax me, so I counted it as a fair drink, even though I am certain it was barley one step above poison.  

       Calvin had drunk some, even though he hardly seemed to care for any alcohol.  He and Tobias were both drunk, by one mug, and it took some doing to get them sober enough to continue, seeing as Calvin kept slurring that he wasn't drunk…that he never drank, and Tobias was giggling inanely to himself.

       We managed though, by way of a spell, and few potions to cure the resulting hangovers.  Finally, we managed to get moving again, but only after Tobias had purchased three bottle of the foul stuff.   

       So we found the tavern, but after a bit of asking, we learned that Handrax was not there.  The gnomish bar keep didn't seem to know who we were speaking of, but he pointed us out a strange fellow in a shadowed corner of the bar, who he claimed might.

       This fellow was definitely the far side of odd. His skin was a sickly yellow, and there was just something…wrong with his face.  It is hard to describe, but Tobias later mentioned that he thought he had heard of such beings…that they were called Githzerai.

       So we asked him if he knew of Handrax…or at least I did.  Strangely enough, the others seemed to be paying little to no attention to what was going on, instead watching people in the bar, and talking to each other.

       I asked where we might find Handrax, and the being replied, that for a bottle of a liquor, and the right price, he would give us directions to the Shadow Thieves guild house in Skullport.  I forced Tobias to give over a bottle of whiskey, and paid the man a handful of gold…out of the money we had found with the driders, and had not yet divided up.  He gave me the directions, but warned us not to charge in stupidly, that there were a lot of shadows thieves in there, and probably even more deadly traps.  I nodded, wondering again if the comment had been specifically pointed at me.  Do I truly look that dangerous and reckless?

       The others seemed surprised when I rose and strode out of the place, nearly stumbling over themselves in their haste to follow.  When they asked where I was going, my response to them was in clipped, annoyed tones.

       "I am going to the Shadow Thieves guild-house to find Handrax…so that we might finally have our vengeance…I thought that was what we all wanted."

       Calvin was quick to protest that he wanted justice, not revenge, and the others responses were of varying degrees, which were not pleasing to hear.  I rounded on them angrily.

       "Have you forgotten what they did to us?!" I nearly shouted.  

       "Have you forgotten your arm so soon, Calvin?  Or being bashed into the wall, Tobias, while people died around you? Or having the shit beat out of you at the ranger's station, Hank?  Or perhaps, being hit repeatedly in the head with a chair, after crying mercy, Ranon?  I know I certainly have not forgotten taking three arrows in the back!" I roared.

       They actually seemed surprised by my ire, and I wondered, not for the last time, what the nine hells was wrong with them.

       I turned my back on them, leaving them to follow in my wake, as I followed the directions to the guild house.  

       I found the place easily enough; an old building that looked near to falling apart in a collection of buildings that were even worse.  There were several empty buildings across the street, so I decided that we should wait in one of them, and watch to see the manner of people that would enter and leave the guild-house.  With luck, Handrax would be one of the ones to leave it, and we could grab him.  

       So we waited…and waited…and waited.  I saw all sorts of people and beings come in and out of the guild house, but no one who matched Hanrdax's description.  I was beginning to be irritated.  Finally, I figured that he wasn't coming out…maybe he even knew we were waiting out there.  So I decided that one of the people who kept coming out of the building had to have some answers.  I had Tobias cast invisibility on me, and I waited, patiently by the door, until a likely looking fellow came out…a halfling.  I figured, aren't most halflings thieves?  So I grabbed him, clapping my hand over his mouth, and dragging him into the building where we were hiding, before anyone had a chance to see or protest…before the as-yet unseen skulls caught me.

       The halfling proved a waste of time. He was a Skullport merchant, and yes, he knew that the shadow thieves were in there, but he did not know who Handrax was, or where.  He was not a shadow thief, so his information was no good to us.  

       So I tired again, this time grabbing a human man, knocking him out, since he was too big to lift up, and carry, as I had with the halfling.  We woke him a short while later, only to find that he was a messenger for some other merchant in the city, and knew nothing, begged us not to kill him, and wet himself, when I gave him a decidedly angry look…then passed out.

       I was beginning to lose my temper, but I tired once more, taking another human this time, and resisting the urge to kill the drow that had walked out a moment before.  This one seemed more competent.  He wore black leather armor, and he was quick on his feet, my first attack against him missing, as he dodged my fists.  Annoyed, I picked up a stray board, and slammed him square in the face with it.  Thief or no, quick or not, I hit, and he went down like a sack of grain.  I picked him up, and dragged him back into the building, but not before I caught a glimpse of a strange, glowing, floating skull, moving down a nearby alley.  It was enough to make me nervous, and I moved fast to get inside the building once more. 

       Ranon woke this once up, seeing as he required a bit of healing.  The human complained loudly that I loosed one of his teeth, and he pulled it put, spitting blood a moment later.  I was about ready to kill both Tobias and the halfling, seeing as they were both doubled over, laughing.  I growled and them, adding that if they had a better idea, I was more than willing to hear it.  Their laughter died to suppressed chuckles, but did not die completely.  Fortunately, some of the others recognized that my temper was hanging on by a thin thread, and told the man I had caught this time, that talking would be advisable.

       I asked him several times if he was a shadow thief, and he evaded answering the question, complaining, and demanding to know why I had hit him, until I must have looked fit to kill, and replied that if he did not answer me, I would hit him again, and this time he would not wake up so easily.    

       So, he was a shadow thief, and his name was Grestin.  I explained that we wanted to talk to Handrax, and wanted to know where he was.  Grestin replied that Handrax was in his office, in the building, where he always was, but added that we would never get in to see him without help.

       "Then you will get us in to see him, and no trickery, or yours will be the first throat I carve open," I growled at him.

       "Woah!  No need to be hostile," Grestin held up his hands.  "I'm just warning you.  I can get you in to talk to him, but if any of you try anything funny, you'll be killed faster than you can blink."

       "And if you betray us, I vow that your death will be painful, and lingering."

       "Whatever…so that's a deal then…I get you in, and you leave me the hells alone," he held out his hand.  I sighed, and took it.  There was no better choice, and the rest of the party certainly wasn't being very forthcoming with ideas.

       So we followed him in.  He did a series of coded knocks, and spoke in common, about laundry and the weather of all things.  I am certain it was some kind of entrance code, but cannot remember it at all.

       We were lead in a moment later, as the door opened, and shown into an entry room that was surprisingly clean and well-appointed, considering the outside of the building.  Grestin lead us through a door behind a desk in the entryway, and down a dizzying array of twists and turns, narrow corridors, and more doors to be opened with coded knocks.  Despite my attempts to remember our path, I was soon lost, which is, I suppose, what Grestin wished.  I think it would take a person with a mind as devious as these shadow thieves to find their way through this maze. Finally, after following Grestin's very precise steps down an obviously trapped hall, we came to a fairly plain, unassuming door, which again elicited another knocking pattern and more comments about laundry.  We were ushered in, and Grestin and the person who had been behind the door stepped back outside.

       We were in a spacious room, with a large mahogany desk, several plush, cushioned chairs, and a few tables.  There were tapestries and weapons hanging on the wall, all seemingly ornamental in nature, but I wondered.  Behind the desk was a being I felt an immediate threat from.  

       He had skin so black that it seemed darker than ebony, somehow, but he was not a drow elf.  His features were human for the most part, but his teeth were filed down to sharp, points, reminiscent of the teeth that lined a sahuguin's maw.  He had glowing red eyes, and a head of gray hair.

       He looked up as we entered, gestured to several chairs in front of the desk.  Most of the others did not sit, but I wasn't afraid, so I did.

       "Well, well…if it isn't the people who have been watching my guild house from across the street.  What can I do for you?"  The creature…Handrax stated in an almost cheery tone.  I refrained from shuddering, and waited for the others to speak up...Calvin at least, seeing as he's usually the best one of us to deal with any kind of matters of talking…no one spoke.  

       "Well? You've gone to a great deal of trouble to see me…what is it you want?" Handrax insisted.  "I am quite busy, so…"

       "We want to know who attacked the adventurer's guild on Midsummers!" I bit out, quickly.

       "Ah, good.  I thought that was what it was. You are the speaker of the party?" I quickly shook my head, and looked to Calvin, even as Ranon piped up that I was, and the others nodded assent.  I wondered kind of sadistic game they were up to now…they know I'm not good at talking with people...especially with people I want to kill…yet they insisted that I do the talking.  

       "So…you want to know who was behind the attack…but you already know it was the shadow thieves…why else would you be here?" Handrax said, in his hissing voice that grated on my nerves.  I shifted in my chair at the statement, growing more and more angry…he didn't even bother to hide his guilt, and for all that, I could not attack him, for if I did I suspected that every thief and fighter in the building would be down upon us in a moment.  I saw the number of people in the building, and I know when I am outnumbered.  

       "Now, now…attacking me would be a very bad idea, elf," Handrax stated, apparently sensing my barely-concealed fury.

       "I just want to know who actually did the attacking…I know we can't touch you…for now," I couldn't help but add the last.  Handrax merely grinned at that.

       "Well, I might be able to recall the name of the mercenaries we used for the task…for a small fee, of course" he said, ignoring my threat.

       "How much?" I demanded, my voice harsh…I could hardly believe that I was going to have to pay the worm responsible for the attacks.  I looked to the others for guidance, as Handrax told me to make him and offer, but they were be less help that usual, if possible.  Starting to lose my temper, I knew that we would have to end this quickly, before things got beyond my control.  In spite, I took some two of the gems we had found in the driders' cave and gave them to Handrax, thinking it fitting that if the party meant not to help me, I would spend their money. He accepted and gave me the name I wanted…the Stained Blade mercenaries.  He told us that we could find them Llorkh, a town near the Anauroch desert.  

       Once "business" was concluded, we left immediately.  I studied everything as best I could, for skulls or not skulls; I meant to make sure that this guild would fall…somehow. I just haven't figured out how yet.  Of course, if it were up to me, I would see that all of Skullport was obliterated.  It was such a foul place, that the taint of evil I felt there still seems to cling to my skin…and the corrupted magic of the place makes my stomach churn just thinking about it. 

       Rather than walk back out the way we had come, and chance becoming lost or attacked again…by something worse than driders and cloakers this time, we decided to take a boat back up to Waterdeep.  There were no passenger boats, but by temporarily signing on as crew we did find passage on a boat, although we had to spend two more days in that foul place waiting to leave.

       The others were quite irritating, but that does not seem to be an unusual occurrence as of late.  When the wench who owned the ship asked them what they could do, most of them…even Calvin seemed a bit leery of doing any kind of actual hard labor, like rowing.  They also seemed surprised when I informed the woman that I was a sailor…haven't I told them time and time again that I grew up with the Ruathym?!  How the hells do they think that sea raiders get around?  By walking?

       Incidentally, I now know that the wizard I hired screwed up somehow on the pocket…seeing as I found an odd snake in the pocket the day before we left.  Great…that's all I need…a familiar pocket that seems to generate small animals, besides the ones that are supposed to be in there.  I swear…human wizards are so incompetent!

Needless to say, when we actual got aboard the ship, Tobias immediately started whining about having to row, but to his credit, he shut up when the first mate glared at him…the 1st mate was a rather unpleasant, large looking human with only one eye.

       The trip back up to Waterdeep did not take too long, but was quite amazing, in that we literally sailed up a waterfall to return to the surface.  It must have been powerful magic, for I had never heard anything like it.

       When we returned to Waterdeep, it was to find that the snows had come earlier this year…very earlier.  The air was very cold, and a thin layer of snow, and frost covered everything.  It was only the 17th day of Marpenoth, in the year of the unstrung harp.

       The party split up, each of us going our own ways, as usual.  Hank told us that winter this year was going to be hard, and long.  A week later, when the snows were beginning to get deeper, we realized that we would not be able to make our trip after the mercenaries till the spring came.  So, with that decision made, I went back to work.  I have advanced far enough that I began to experiment with enchanting some of the things I made at the forge.  My first few tries didn't quite work, but I got the knack of it after the second week, and Brian seems quite glad to make extra profit off the weapons.  He gives me my share of course, which is a good thing, I think, seeing as the egg should be near to hatching, fairly soon…I think.

       I am trying to find a way to beat the Shadow thieves, though I think it unlikely that the others are doing the same.  To that end, I did stop by and talk with Elaith.  Now, I know that as the former captain of the guard, breaking into things was probably not a subject that he was comfortable with.  He did agree with me that going after the shadow thieves at this point would be a bad idea.  I, and the rest of the party, was not the type to handle any kind of sneaking or stealth very well…and we would need to do both to even consider taking on such a powerful group of thieves.  However, he did give me one piece of advice that I decided to use: The best way to catch a thief is with a thief.  Now, I couldn't very well ask Elaith if he knew any rogue-types, and when I asked Tobias, he seemed bewildered by my questions, asking where I thought he would find a thief.  In irritation, I told him to never mind and go away.  So I asked the last person I could think of who might know someone… Rosaleen.

       Rosaleen proved to be more helpful than I had anticipated.  She informed me that she had a friend who might be able to help me…another adventurer, by the name of Lita Ravenlight.  

       So a few nights later, when I went down to the Dancing blade to see Rosaleen, she had her friend with her.  Lita is a human woman, not much older than Calvin, I think.  At first glance she seems almost plain, with mouse-brown hair, and hazel eyes.  But she was rather well proportioned, and had a voice that tended to draw the attention of all the men in the immediate area.  Fortunately, I am not a complete idiot, and knew that Rosaleen would probably not like it if I eyed her friend…besides, Lita may be interesting, but Rosa is prettier.

       So I spoke for a while with Lita, explaining a bit of the situation beginning with the attack on the adventurer's guild, and finishing with what we had learned in Skullport.  I explained to her that I needed a person who was good at sneaking about, and opening locks, and finding traps and such, to help us…that the only way I could think of to get us on even footing was to have someone who knew theirs ways, so to speak.

       She did not seem offended by the fact that I was all but calling her a thief as well, by insinuating that she could do all the things required.  In fact, she seemed almost amused.  After a bit of thinking, she agreed to join the party, and aid us in our goal.  Then she asked why I had been nominated to hire the thief.  I laughed.

       "I wasn't…it is just that none of the others know about my hiring you, for one thing.  Oh, and they usually seem to have a lack of ideas when it comes to what to do next, and so on.  I figured that I would make things easier for them, by solving one of our problems for them," I said.

       "So they don't even know I've joined them yet?" she grinned.  I shook my head.

       "There's always time for you to back out, if you want.  Once you meet the rest of them, you may not want to stay," I told her.  "We're all rather…odd…except for Tobias, who is pretty much just what you would expect him to be."  

       "So where can I find these others?" she asked.  I named a few of their favorite spots…Calvin's church, the tavern's Tobias played at, the ranger station where Hank spent most of his time, and the Plinth, where I knew Ranon worked, from time to time.  I told her she could seek them out if she wanted to talk to, or have a look at them.  She smiled again, and said that she just might do that.

       I have to say that I liked Lita after we talked, but I did get the feeling that there was something more that she wasn't telling me.  Still, I figure that we all have our secrets, so I did not pry.

Now halfway through our second week back, I had a strange encounter with the rest of the party…I can say, without a doubt, at this point, that I ruined everything with them.  They'll never trust me again, but I was so very angry at the time, that I didn't care.  The worst was seeing their faces as they lost whatever respect they might have had for me.

       It was night, and I was at the loft with Rosaleen. Tobias had not been around lately…and I almost missed having him as my shadow…I do not know what he was doing.  Rosaleen and I had just finished up, so to speak, when I heard a knock on the trap door to the room.  I knew it wasn't Tobias, for Tobias never knocks, merely barges and in and goes about his business, no matter what I am doing.  I told the person to hold on, and quickly dressed.

       When I opened the door, in came all four members of the party, of all people.  They looked fairly serious…at least Calvin and Ranon did.  Hank looked a little…out of it…and Tobias looked skeptical. Rosaleen noted that something seemed to be up and told me that she would go.  I didn't really want her to, but she seemed to think it was best.  She kissed me on the way out…and I blushed, like a stupid boy.  I'm certain it made a bleeding wonderful impression on the party…but then, considering the nature of the conversation they had with me a moment later, I suppose that they think I am both a child, and incapable of protecting myself in any way, any how.

       I borrowed a few of Hacasian's stools for them to sit on, since the loft was still pitifully bare of furniture, save for a large clothes cabinet that was empty for the most part, and Tobias' bed.

       "We need to talk to you," Ranon stated.  Calvin was very quiet, and seemed willing to let the dwarf do the talking.  

       "It's about your…um…friend, Elaith Craulnober." I sat up a bit straighter at that.

       "What about Elaith?" I asked.

       "Well…um…we thought you should know that he's having a bit of trouble with someone called the Serpent," Ranon mumbled.  At that Tobias laughed.

       "Elaith Craulnober **is** the Serpent," he told Ranon.

       "Shut up! You weren't supposed to tell…" Ranon protested.

       "This is a dumb idea," Tobias argued.  "And I have better things to do than to destroy Airk's illusions.  Let's go Hank," he turned to the dwarf.  It seemed to take Hank a few minutes to respond, but he did so rising to leave.  I noticed his eyes were reddened and he smelled of some strange smoke.  Curious.

       When the other two had gone, Ranon resumed his babbling.  

       "Well, you see Airk…your friend Elaith ain't what he seems."

       "What are you trying to say?" I asked, suspiciously, wondering what new game the party was about.

       "Elaith is an evil bastard!" Ranon blurted out.  "Or at least he was." I went still, and listened as Ranon went on to list a great number of Elaith's supposed crimes…murder, embezzlement, thievery, tom-robbing, fraud, and so on…just about every thing you could imagine someone ever having done wrong.  With each thing he added, I noticed that Ranon flinched further and further away from me…as though he thought I would explode and kill him.  So much for trust.  Strangely enough I felt terribly calm for once…less like Airk and more like Keledrial, I suppose.

       "And do you have proof of these deeds?" I asked mildly.  

       "Well…no…but that's the thing…he's such a sneaky snake that no can prove what he did…even though everyone knows he did it."

       "Really," was my reply.

       "The man is notorious in Waterdeep," Calvin finally spoke.  "I had forgotten, but when Ranon spoke of it, and when we spoke to the priests, I recalled the stories."

       "Indeed…human priests, yes?" I asked.  He nodded…no doubt from his own church.  I rose, and once more Ranon moved away…out of hitting range, I guess. To his credit, Calvin did not, but I always did respect him for that.

       "Very well…you have accused Elaith of serious crimes…yet you have no proof.  You say that he is a notorious criminal, but I have only the word of human priests.  Fine.  We will go to the elven church, here.  If Elaith is so very despicable, surely they will have heard of him.  If Celedor tells me, I will have no choice but to believe it.  Let's go."  I gestured to the door.  Apparently they were determined to see this through.  They followed.

       We reached the church just before the middle of the night.  Celedor was not pleased when I dragged him from his rest, but to his credit, he came outside to meet the others.

       "I have been informed by my…friends here, that Elaith Craulnober is a criminal," I stated to him, stiffly.  I did not really believe it. Celedor glanced back and forth between me, and the others.  Then he sighed.

       "Keledrial, they are right.  Elaith has done terrible things, and most likely whatever story they have heard is true."

       "You see!" Ranon crowed. "I told you he was no good.  He's trying to use you…corrupt you."  

       "Corrupt me?" I laughed bitterly.  Before I could go on, though, Celedor interrupted.

       "However…there are things that you do not know.  Elaith Craulnober left his home when his moon blade rejected him, and it was then that he turned to his dark ways.  Yet, several years past, he went on a quest to reawaken the power of his moon blade…for his daughter.  He succeeded in his goal, by doing an act of great good.  The moon blade was reawakened, and it is my belief that Elaith has taken several steps towards mending his ways."  He then went to explain to Calvin and Ranon that a Moon blade was a powerful weapon that could judge whether or not a wielder was unworthy.  By reawakening, Elaith had proved himself worthy, and no truly evil person could do such a thing.  I knew that, and in a way it gave me hope…that if Elaith had done wrong and could change, then so, too, could I.  At least, that is what I hoped at the time.  But then I saw their faces, Ranon's and Calvin's…I read what they thought…in their eyes Elaith was still evil, moon blade or no.  It did not matter to them that it was a priest telling them these things…they had made up their minds.  And in a moment of cold anger, I said something to them I probably should not have.

       "Ranon…" I began in a deceptively calm tone. "What if a man…or an elf did terrible things, even though they were once a good person?"

       "Then they should be punished for their crimes," Ranon replied easily.  I believe Calvin nodded.

       "I see…and what if this person had killed innocent people… men and women…even children?  What if they had robbed and raped and hurt people who did not deserve it?" I asked, but then I did not let them answer.

       "And what if this person was truly sorry for what he had done?  What if he took up adventuring as a type of penance…killing monsters as a way to protect the people he'd once hurt?  What if this person went to church, and spoke with his confessor and prayed everyday for a way to be forgiven? Should that person be condemned for those crimes?  Or do you think they could have learned that they were wrong, and be given another chance?" 

       "Killed women and children?" Calvin asked softly.  

       "Yes," I snapped, and in a way it was true.  In a rage, I killed anyone who held a weapon against me…be they a warrior, a woman, or a beardless youth.  True, I had never actually killed an innocent, or anyone unarmed…but I had done other things.  And they knew it was me…perhaps it was my tone, or the way I said it…but I saw that they both knew.  I damned myself with those words. I saw Ranon struggle not to give the answer he wished…that this person should be thrown away without a thought.  I could not even bear to look at Calvin…I knew his expression would be worse.

       "Well…um…I guess they should be given another chance," Ranon said…but he did sound as though he meant it.  The reality of what I'd done hit me.  I'd destroyed what fragile trust there was…the others would know before the week was out…Ranon with his big mouth would make certain of that.  With a sigh, I accepted my fate.  There was nothing to be done now.  With my own secrets out, I decided to, at the very least, defend Elaith.

       "If you truly believe that, Ranon, then you believe that Elaith must be given a chance."

       "He could send you into danger…and you owe him…by sending you, he could send us into danger," Ranon protested.  So that was what this was about…they were worried…not for me, but for themselves.

       "And you would follow someone like me?" I laughed, darkly.  "Not everything you hear of a person is true, Ranon.  And you can never know their reasons for why they did it.  In Ruathym, they called me Airk Woman-slayer, for a deed that I never committed.  Until I know better, I will not judge Elaith as I was judged.  Things are not always what they seem.  I will trust Elaith, and do so until he breaks that trust…if ever he does.  Sometimes…sometimes people can change.  If you are so worried for your own hide, then do not follow me…I never asked you to…you all asked me, remember?"  I said, quietly.  Then, turning to Celedor, I added.

       "I think this matter has been resolved enough.  I am sorry for disturbing you, Celedor.  I will see you on the morrow.  Good night…Calvin…Ranon," I nodded at them, as I walked stiffly away from the church stairs where we were standing…and out into the night.

       I was so angry that night.  I can hardly remember what I did.  I know I got drunk, for I woke up with a vicious hangover the next morning…in a cell at one of the guard stations.  I had been thrown in the place for being "drunk and disorderly"… a rather fancy way of saying that I got into a bar fight. 

       I did not go into work that day…and I did not explain to Brian why I wasn't there.  A first for me.  Instead I went to Elaith's bar…and waited for him to arrive.

       He didn't show up until fairly late in the day, and I had had a bit drink by then, so I wasn't as clear headed as I would have liked when I spoke to him. I do not know what I wanted to hear from him…a denial…an affirmation of what they'd told me.  I think that all I really wanted to do was to tell him that I didn't care one way or the other.  As far as I was concerned, he had been the captain of the King's guard…and no one capable of true evil could ever hold that position.  

       When I said that to him, he raised an eyebrow, and I could not quite place his expression as he told me that people called him The Serpent for a reason…I shook my.  I did not believe it…especially not coming from the mouths of humans.  I explained to him my own "title" among the humans…and that it, too, was not completely deserved.  I think I might have mentioned something about how I was almost glad to know the truth…that I wasn't alone in my troubles…that I understood the things that we had to do to survive in the world beyond Evermeet.  I don't recall Elaith saying all that much…more that he let me ramble on, and kept plenty to drink on hand.  He never looked at me with pity when I told him my own actions, nor did he accuse me.  He just listened…and I got the feeling that maybe, he too, understood.  I told him that I still trusted him…no matter what they had told me…that I would trust him until he gave me a reason not to.  He laughed, and said that he hoped the day would never come that he would need to.  

       Finally, long after darkness had fallen, I took my leave, his final words ringing in my ears.

       "If you feel the need to talk, Keledrial, I will listen," he told me as I left.  And I was comforted, in that there was still one person left…besides Celedor, that is…who does not condemn.  

       Damn me…and damn the Ruathym for making me…by all the Seldarine…why did you save me, Corellon…only so that I can spend the rest of my life alone, and hated?  Or is this the penance I asked for?  Is this what I must suffer to repay my crimes?  If so, than I must accept it…but if not…why am I so disliked by all near me?  What is it about me that people so despise, be they elven, human, or otherwise?   

       I sought out Rosaleen, after I left, and found comfort and a distraction from my woes, with her.  

       The next morning, despite my pounding head ache, I went to work, apologized to my employer for being late, and spent the rest of the day there, into the night.

       I had a visit from the wizard's guild, a few days ago, today being the third of Nightal…or rather they sent a messenger to me and asked me to come to the guild.  Apparently, they did not like my bad-mouthing the guild wizards, and had heard that I have been telling people they are cheats, and incompetent.  Cheats over the armor, and incompetent because of the pocket…which I found a blackbird in the other day.

       They explained that it wasn't good business for them…especially not with my being a wizard and an elf… apparently being elf seems to give my opinions of magic more substance.  They said that the two wizards I had spoken with were only two among many, and that if I would but give them a chance, they would see that they were not all like that.  To assuage my ire at them, they offered to enchant the armor, as I had wanted, at a reduced cost, and take my other suit as the payment for it.  So I gave in.  I didn't have the skills yet to enchant the armor as I wished, and not having to pay anything for having it done appealed to me.  I gave them what they wanted, my word not to speak ill of the guild if the armor was done to my satisfaction.

       While I was there, I also inquired further on information pertaining to the broken sword of Tempus.  They stated that according to legend, it was a flaming blade of no small power.  It was a great sword, but I already knew that by looking at it…and they stated that it had been dedicated to the destruction of orcs…hence the reason for the dreams about great battles between the races and orcs, I imagine. Its name was The Fury of Battle, and as for the last piece they said that it was contained in a large gauntlet somewhere in the wilderness.  Not that that was much help, as far as a description went.  Oh well…perhaps I shall continue to be lucky and stumble across it…or perhaps I shall find some more competent wizards to locate it for me.

       I have been working a great deal…actually, come to think of it, that's about all I have been doing these past few weeks.  When I say a great deal, I mean that I am up before dawn and do not stop until well after dark has fallen.  And lately, reverie holds little enough comfort me…I use the work as a way to lose myself.  I do still see Rosaleen, fairly often, and she chides me foe letting myself become so upset about things.  I have not told her the whole truth, however, and never intend to do so.  The last thing I want to see is disgust for me in her eyes…and it would be there, I have no doubt.  

       Come to think of it, I have been getting the same "advice" from the only people who are still talking to me.  Celedor tells me that I must speak with the others…try to explain the circumstances.  I will not, though.  If they cannot accept that I am sorry, and am trying to make up for what I did on my vow alone, then there is no point.  Even Elaith, whom I have taken up on his offer, and spoken with on several more occasions, has counseled me to talk with the others.  He said that they might not feel as I believe they do…that jumping to conclusion can be dangerous, and lead to sorrow.  But I cannot, and will not, by Corellon!

       It has happened, as I feared it would, anyhow.  I have not spoken with any of them for all these weeks…and it is nearing the end of Nightal.  And it is not because I am being stubborn, but rather, because they are avoiding me.  They no longer come to the tavern where we all used to meet, and drink.  I know that the snows are heavy, but still…most of them live in Waterdeep, and the streets are all cleared by noon, for the most part…as for Hank…he is a ranger, and surely knows how to travel in the snow.  But they don't come anymore…and I never see them at any of their usual places, either.  Oh Tobias comes around once in a while, to sleep, but he rarely speaks to me, going into reverie straightaway, and leaving as soon as he awakes…and he only returned very few nights in the week.  Soon, I suspect, he will tell me that he is staying elsewhere, and I will be alone again.  I suppose that I have complained a great deal about him in the past, but I thought that we were friends, in a way.  He was always chattering at me, and telling stories…and I find that now that he is gone, that I rather miss his company…or anyone's company for that matter.  But, as my Ruathym mother would have said, I made my pallet, and now must lie in it.

       I must give Celedor credit, he did try.  He managed to find out where most of the party was, yesterday, and told me that for my own good, I must tell them that my name was not Airk, and they must no longer call me that…for therapy, he said.  Yet, I know his true purpose…he wants me to see them again…to have a reason to speak with them.  He thought that they would welcome me…ask where I had been…that perhaps it had all been a misunderstanding, their avoidance. 

       He was wrong.

       We left Waterdeep, early in the morning, trudging down the main trade road, through the snow.  The weather was fairly warm that day, and the sun was out for once.  We found them not far from Hank's ranger station, some six miles out from the city, among a fair bit of activity.  

       A large section of the snow and ground was cleared out, and had been kept thawed by some magical means.  There was construction going on there…a building going up.  It took me a moment to locate them among all the workers…they were all standing off to the side, overseeing the work.  They were all dressed in winter clothes, and without armor, or weapons for the most part.  I don't know what they were saying when Celedor and I walked up, but the conversation silenced when I approached.  

       Celedor told me that I looked a bit like a truant child, dragged along by a parent at he time…dragging my heels, my head down, pace slowed…I'm sure he was right, but the truth was, I did not want to be there.

       Tobias laughed as we approached, saying that my being forced to do something was a sight he'd never thought to see.  Out of habit, I looked up and glared at him…and to my dismay; he took a few steps backwards and away from me.  I did not look up again at any of them for the rest of the encounter.

       They asked why we were there, and Celedor explained his purpose.

       "I know that you know him as Airk," he gestured to me.  "However, it is not his name, and I would ask that you no longer address him as such.  His true name is Keledrial, and that is what you must call him."

       "Why?" Calvin asked.

       "Keledrial came to the church requesting help to…recover from his time among the humans of Ruathym.  This is part of the process."

       "And do you want to be called this?" Calvin addressed me.  I shrugged, wanting desperately to leave, as I realized what was going on.  It was some sort of inn or tavern that they were building…the party members were building…all of them except for me.  They hadn't, apparently, decided to tell me, or thought to include me…and I know exactly why.  Well, to the nine hells with them anyhow!

       "I don't care," I shrugged.  Celedor gave me a dirty look at that, so I sighed, and amended,

       "You should probably call me Keledrial."

       "Why did you not tell us this when we met you?"  Ranon asked.

       "Most people have trouble with my elven name," I mumbled.  "Besides…I'm Airk, too."  That elicited another glare from Celedor.

       "I was Airk…anyhow," I muttered.  

       "Do you want to be called Keledrial?" Calvin repeated, insistently.

       "I…don't…care," I enunciated, seeing as he hadn't understood the first time.  

       "Then you won't care if we continue to call you Airk?" Calvin asked.

       "Call me whatever the hells you want to," I bit out, then turned to Celedor.

       "Can I go now…I told you they wouldn't care."  Celedor looked at the party, then back to me and sighed.

       "If you wish…I will see you later, then."   I stalked off…they did not stop me, or ask me to stay and talk or drink…or anything.  I should have known better, but I still hoped they would. It occurred to me, as I walked back to town, that none of them had even bothered to say hello.  So much for friendship, right?  As I left, I realized just what the building was, hearing workers speaking about it…they, the other party members that is, were building some sort of tavern, and greenhouse.  It appeared that they'd decided to prepare for their inevitable retirement from adventuring by building a tavern…figuring, no doubt, that after having frequented so many, that they could certainly run one.  The greenhouse part was Hank's idea…he seemed to be fond of smoking some sort of strange herb that he had bought from the halfling down in Skullport, while I was interrogating my other captive.  It seemed, that he decided to grow his own…perhaps that was the reason he seemed so out of things…I do not know.  All that I do know is that whatever their idea with this venture, they had made the decision not to include me, or indeed, even tell me about.  I don't care.  Let them waste their money…they always do.  I hope the business fails.  Gods, I hate them! 

       Needless to say, I was in quite a mood when I returned to the city, and for several days thereafter. Fortunately, on the fifth day of Hammer, an event occurred that took up all of my focus and all of my time after that.

       The egg hatched.  It was the fifth day of Hammer.

       I had just finished a shift at the forge, when Sanhandrian began throwing a fit, barking and squeaking, as he stuck he head out of the familiar pocket, where he'd been sleeping.  I might have mentioned it before, but in recent weeks, I find I have been able to understand Sanhandrian more and more…so either I am going crazy, or I am learning squirrel.  And what I heard from him at that time was that the egg was cracking.

       Worried, I opened the pocket and peered in…the egg was cracking…hatching, in fact.  Remembering what I had read in the book about silver dragons that I had bought at the guild back, just after I had first found the egg, I headed home, stopping only long enough to purchase a large quantity of food, and some milk as well.  The book wasn't entirely clear on what baby dragons ate, but it did say that silver dragons liked human food…so I figured I would have to try different things.

       I made it back just in time.  As I carefully pulled the egg out from its cocoon of warmth, a large section of the egg pushed outward, and I saw a small claw.  A few moments later, the dragon was free from the egg, making little squeaking noises.  

       Now, as I cleaned the hatchling off, I was surprised to find that it was not silver in color, but rather a dark, bluish-gray hue.  I have since gone back to look at the book, and learned that the dragon's scales will not turn silver until she gets older.  

       That dragon is a girl, a fact I found out by comparing her to pictures in the book.  Her head is shaped a little differently than a male's would be, and she is smaller.  By small, I mean that she's just barely two feet long, from her head, to the tip of her tail.  Considering that the only other dragons I have seen were considerably larger, she is very tiny.  

       After she was cleaned, she stopped her squeaking, and curled up and went to sleep.  I swear…for the first few hours, I must have checked her every two minutes, to make certain that she was still breathing.  The hatchling woke up around midnight, with a wavering wail that sounded just like a regular baby crying.  I figured she was hungry, so I fed her, trying each of the different types of food I had bought.  I learned the hard way that I had to be careful, for she already has a set of tiny, needle-sharp teeth…and believe me I have the puncture marks on my fingers to prove it.  She seemed to like the milk, although seeing as I was using a cup to give it to her, I think I got more milk on her scales and my clothing, than in her mouth.  I swear the little thing ate more than I do in a day, all in one sitting.  Then she fell back to sleep.  I figure that this will be fairly easy.  All I have to do is feed her, and she goes back to sleep.  I've got my book…so how hard could it possible be to take care of one little dragon.  Oh yes, I've decided to name her Kaithseraly.  It is a combination of elven and draconic names, meaning something to the effect of silver dragon child.  Not very original, but at least it's truthful.  Sanhandrian doesn't seem to know what to think of her.  Oh…she's waking up. Better go and feed her.

       By all the gods of the Seldarine, I swear I will never be so naive again.  This will be easy?  Yeah, right.  What in the nine hells could I have been thinking?!  I have to be the most foolish elf in Faerun to have ever made a statement like that.  It has been over three weeks since the egg hatched, just to let you know how long it has been since I have had time to write anything down.  I am surprised I'm not dead…from exhaustion, if nothing else.  

       She's driving me to despair…I swear it.  Who would have thought such a little thing could be so much trouble?  The book made everything seem so easy… although it goes to show that I suppose one cannot believe everything written in a book.  She eats all the time…I mean ALL the time.  I do not understand when she could be putting it all.  If this keeps up, I'm going to run out money very quickly.  The first week wasn't too bad, in that at least she slept all the time.  Oh…and…relieved herself…usually all over the floor.  So aide from picking up dragon droppings…which were quite unpleasant, it wasn't too horrible.  Then, last week, she seemed to get over her lethargy.  

       Normal babies don't grow so fast…at least I do not think they do.  But she is.  She wanders about the loft, sticking her nose into everything…her claws aren't very good for getting into things, but she has already managed to destroy several of Tobias' shirts, and my favorite pair of breeches…a sheaf of Tobias' sheet music…and she's decided that the stuffed, black dragon head is her favorite thing to chew on…it is hardly recognizable as a dragon head anymore. How she managed to get it down, off the wall, I don't know. 

       And she cries…all the time.  Whenever she wants to eat…she cries.  When she wants to play, she cries.  If I try to take anything away from her, she cries like I'd just broken her wings, or something! She leaves messes everywhere!  Considering how small the loft is, and how little Tobias and I keep up here, I wouldn't think it possible…but it looks like a hurricane has come through the place.  

       I haven't been to work since this began, and I'm running low on funds.  I'll have to start cutting into my Evermeet money if I don't start working again.  But I don't know what to do.  I can't leave her here alone…I can't take her with me.  Brian wouldn't like it for one thing, and announcing that I have a baby silver dragon seems like a bad idea to me.  I haven't spoken to anyone…and I do mean anyone in all this time…not even Celedor or Rosaleen.  I'm sure they all think I am on an adventure or something, and I just didn't tell them…although I wonder where they think I could go with all this damnable snow!  I haven't slept in I don't know how long.  I don't dare.  What if I fell asleep and she woke up, and got hurt?  Or what if Tobias came back suddenly?  He's been here a few times, but I always managed to hide Sera in the pocket and leave before he saw us.  He left a few notes asking what was going on…I assume that he meant why were his things ruined.  I left a return message saying that it was not his business, and not to worry.  I left some coins with the notes, and haven't found another one, so I assume he was satisfied.  

       I haven't been out of the loft except for to buy food, in all that time, and I am staring to feel claustrophobic.  I have not been inside this much…well…ever!  But I can't take any chances with Sera.  Maybe I didn't realize what I was getting into, but she's my responsibility now, until the day she's old enough to take care of herself.  I cannot fail to protect her.  I can't let anyone find out about her yet, either.  I don't know how people might react.  I mean, she is still a dragon.  Some people don't care about the color…only that as a dragon she would be worth a lot of money…alive or dead.  I can't let anyone hurt her.  But I know I can't go on like this for much longer.  I wish I had some help…some one I could trust enough to help me…just a little…all I need is a little help.  But there isn't anyone.  Damn the party!  Gods, I hate them.  Why can't they just give me a chance?!  Gods, I'm so tired.  I just need to rest a bit…Sanhandrian can wake me up…just for a few minutes, all right?

       Well, that is the last time I trust Sanhandrian to wake me up.  The miserable little fur ball decided that since I was asleep, and Sera was asleep, that he should be able to go to sleep, too.

       So he did not wake me up…Rosaleen did.

       To her credit, Rosaleen did not run screaming out the way she'd come when Sera awoke, and upon seeing a stranger, jumped on me and began clawing at me, wailing like a banshee.  I came out of reverie with a gasp, certain that it had only been a few minutes, since I did not feel at all rested.  I shoved Sera behind me, the cuts from her claws stinging as they started to bleed.  Like her teeth, Sera's claws are very sharp.  I grabbed my axe off the wall, readying for a fight, only to see Rosaleen standing by the trap door in the fading light, her blue eyes wide with surprise, her mouth open, in an almost comical manner.

       "Rosa…what are you doing here?" I asked, my voice rougher than usual.  

       "I…I...came to see you," she whispered, eyes still wide as saucers.  Then she seemed to compose herself.  "I thought that maybe you were sick…or that you…found someone else, since you haven't been around for three weeks now.  But now I see what you've been up to."

       "Rosaleen…" I began, warily.  "She's a baby.  She can't hurt anyone…"  Rosaleen eyed the bleeding wounds on my chest and arms with a skeptical gaze.  I looked down, frowning.  

       "These are accidents.  She doesn't know yet that she can hurt.  Please…please don't tell anyone.  People might hurt her if they knew…" I almost pleaded.  From behind me, Sera finally stopped her crying, and peaked her little head out from behind me, to look at Rosaleen, curling her tail around my arm.  Rosaleen stared at Sera for a moment, and Sera at Rosaleen.  After a minute, Sera looked away, and went over to the bag I kept her food in and slowly dragged it back to me.  She gave me a pleading look as she clawed at the bag.  She didn't not know how to open the clasp.  Knowing that the noise would began if I didn't feed Sera immediately, I looked away from Rosaleen, and took out some soft cheese, and brad from the pack, slowly began tearing bits off and giving them to Sera.  If I let her have the whole pieces, she would probably choke on them, the way she wolfs down her food.  I looked back to Rosaleen.

       "See…she's just a baby.  A silver dragon, Rosa.  Silver dragons are good."

       "I know," Rosaleen said, edging closer.  "But why do you have…her?" she asked.

       "Remember I told you how the others and I killed the red dragon?  Her mother was the silver dragon.  She was the only egg that wasn't destroyed.  I couldn't just leave it there…someone had to take care of it," I told her.  

       "And that's why you haven't been around?" Rosaleen asked.  I nodded.

       "I can't let anyone know about her…what she is.  Promise me you will not tell anyone," I insisted.  

       "All right…I promise.  But Keledrial, what are you going to do with her?"

       "Take care of her…protect her.  I have to."  Sera started whining when I stopped feeding her, so I quickly resumed. Rosaleen finally closed the distance between the door, and my furs, where Sera and I were sitting.  She gasped when she saw me more clearly.

       "Look at you!" she exclaimed.  "When was the last time you slept…or ate?" she demanded, reminding me for a moment of my mothers…or at least her tone did.  I shrugged.

       "What day is it?" I wasn't certain.  She told me.  

       "Um…I do not remember…" I admitted.  Rosaleen then proceeded to take over.  She told me that if I starved myself to death, there would be no one to take care of the dragon, now would there…she then left, and returned a while later with more food, and forced me to eat…not that she had to do much persuading.  She then informed me to go back to sleep, and that she would watch Sera while I did so.  I got enough rest that day that I did not feel like I was going to collapse. 

       Rosaleen has been a great help to me…just enough, any how that I've been able to get some things done, and feel less out of control of things.  She works, though, so I still have to deal with Sera pretty much by myself. 

       I am back at work though, for one thing.  I left Sera with Rosaleen…fortunately, the dragon seems to like her, and went down to talk with Brian a day of so after Rosaleen found out.  I explained to him that some things had come up, and that I wanted to come back to work, but that I would only be able to work at night for a while.  Brian asked why, and I told him that I was sorry, but couldn't tell him.  He seemed to think about it, and finally said that he would agree to it, on the condition that I would tell him, eventually, the reason. I agreed…eventually I would tell him…at least once Sera has learned to use her dragon abilities, one of which was the polymorph spell.  Once she learned how to change her shape to look, at least, like a regular child, it would be safer.  But while she was still only able to be in her draconic form, I could take no more chances.  

       Going back to work is a good thing, for several reasons... money being the most obvious.  Baby dragons are not cheap to take care, I have begun to learn.  I decided to work at night, for the forge is usually closed then, but Brian makes such a good profit off my work that I knew he would agree to it.  That way, I could bring Sera with me to work, and no one would see her.  It is my only option right now, for Tobias has come back to the loft more and more often.  He almost saw Sera before I managed to get him to leave.  Fortunately, she has decided that my clothes closet, which is, for the most part, empty, is her new favorite place.  She hides in it all the time, and was hiding there at the time.  

       Aside from that, I like working.  In a way, it relaxes me…allows me to work out my frustrations in a constructive way.  And at this point in my life, I certainly have more than a few frustrations.  Sera seems to like going to work with me well enough, for it is always warm at the forge, and strangely enough, the noise of the hammering seems to calm her…put her to sleep.  The only problem with that is that since she sleeps when I am working, she is always awake and wanting to play during the day…so once again I am running on very little rest.

       Of course I did have to bribe the boy who works nights at the forge, keeping the fires going to keep his mouth shut.  Five silver pieces a night, in fact…but since I make five gold on regular work, and even more when I do enchantments, I can afford it.  


	4. Chapter 4

Sera is growing bigger, and she has stared flying…hovering about in the loft.  And she's started to talk.  I guess that dragon babies advance faster than human, or elven ones, that's for certain.  She's only got single words down, right now…like "food," "sleep," and "Kele."   She calls me "Kele," I think, because she's heard Rosaleen call me Keledrial…but can't manage the full name yet.  Still…I think that, for her, Kele is more of word like "mother" than a name, anyhow.  I did read that most baby things think that the first thing that they see is their mother, so I generally assume that Sera thinks the same of me.  Funny…of all the things I thought to be some day…a "Kele" is not one of them.

       Sera's almost two months old, now.  I can't begin to tell you the shock I had when I woke up from one of my rare naps, the other day, only to find that Sera was gone, and there was a small, elven child sitting on the floor of the loft, playing with the music box that the party had found, so long ago, among the things that the giants, up in Neverwinter, had stolen.  We never found a buyer for the thing, so I had put it away in the drawer of the cabinet. Sera liked to listen to it, but I would not let her play with it, because I knew that she might accidentally break it. 

       Any how, I nearly panicked when I saw a little girl, and not a little dragon...then I remembered that one of a silver dragon's innate skills is the ability to change their shape.  I looked closer and realized that the elven child had hair the same color as my own, but silver eyes.  

       "Sera?" I called, and she looked up, wide-eyed.  A moment later, she stood and brought the music box over to me.

       "Kele, play," she said, holding the box out, not I the least bit sheepish that I'd caught her playing with it.  At the moment though, I was too relieved to scold her.  I wound the music box up, and as the tinkling melody began, Sera started dancing about the room happily.  When the song wound down, and I had managed to gather my wits, I called her over again.

       "Sera, how did you…change?"  I asked.  She shrugged, and reached up to be picked up.  

       "All right…why did you change?" I asked her.  Again she shrugged, and laid her head against my shoulder. One of her hands snagged a fistful of my hair, and she giggled.

       "Same!" she stated.  

       "Yes, the same color…but how did you know to look small?" I asked, trying to figure out why she had changed into a child version of an elf.  She jumped down, switched back into a dragon, which was very disconcerting to witness, and went to the window in the loft.  She flapped her wings, until she was hovering at eye level, and looked out, pointing at something. 

       I looked out to see what she was pointing at.  Down, in the street below, I saw people walking by.  It was the usual scene, since it was nearing noon…just people.  She made a noise and pointed again.  This time I saw what she meant…a family was walking boy…a mother, a father and a little girl. The little girl had the same color hair as her parents, but still looked very different.  I understood that she had been looking out the window and that was where she had gotten the idea to change. 

       I plucked her out of the air, and smiled at her.  

       "Good girl, Sera.  Can you change back, again?" I asked.  She nodded, her blue-gray head bobbing once, before she morphed back into the little elven girl.  

       Now, Sera developing her ability to change her shape had its up and downsides.  I would not have to be so careful about hiding her anymore.  A dragon is one thing, but an elven child is completely different.  I could always tell people that she's my daughter, or niece or something.  And no one would hurt an elven child just because she is an elf.  The problem was, that I had to get her some clothing, since it wasn't appropriate for her to be running about without anything on, in the middle of winter.  No one would believe she was an elf, if she did.  Unfortunately, I know about as much about buying clothing as I do about taking care of baby dragons…not a whole lot.  My mothers always took care of my clothing for me, so it was never a problem.  Ingrid used to sew my clothes, but I can vaguely recall being taken to a tailor, when I lived on Evermeet, so I decided to find one here.  

       For temporary covering, I dug out one of Tobias' shirts…one that he hadn't taken to the tavern he and the others were building, and hadn't been ruined by Sera's claws.  She struggled and fussed when I tried to put it on her, but in the end, my determination was greater than her protestation.  I told her that she had to make certain she stayed as an elf, and did not change again until we came home.  Whether or not she understood me, I do not know, but she nodded, and remained in her elven form for the rest of the day.

       I will not go into the details of the tailor shop, only suffice to say my ignorance made me look like an idiot, and I am certain the woman who ran the place over-charged me. As soon as I walked into the place, with Sera, she made some loud, clucking noise, that reminded me of an irate chicken, and told me that I was holding Sera wrong…that one does not hold children as though they were a bag of meal.  I don't know why the wench got so upset…Sera never seems to complain. Then she fussed, and demanded to know why Sera had no clothing.  I believe I gave some pathetic excuse about her clothing having been wrecked in a fire.  Then the endless puttering and measuring!  She kept asking me things about material types, and buttons, and latches, and designs, and a thousand other things. I had no idea what she was talking about.  Then she started measuring me for clothing…all in all, by the time we were done at the tailor shop, I had spent a great deal of money on outfitting Sera, and ended up with some new clothes as well…although on the subject of the latter, I am not exactly opposed, seeing as adventuring is rather hard on my clothing, and I have no mothers left to make me new ones.

       The only thing I insisted on with Sera's clothing was that the dresses and tunics have no buttons on them.  For one, I do not have the patience, and for another I wanted her to be able to get into and out of her clothes easily enough, so that she wouldn't wreck them when poly-morphing between forms.  

       Sera seemed happy, though, with her clothing, and with the day outside of the loft.  I am not able to take her outside very often, for obvious reasons, although I have taken her outside of the city once or twice, so that she could play in the snow, without prying eyes.  Still, perhaps it wasn't such a brilliant idea to let Sera near normal children…after a few hours in the shop, where a pair of human girls were also being fitted for clothing, I noticed Sera beginning to mimic them…their facial expressions, body movements, and manner of speech…not that she can say much at this point, anyhow.  I shall have to be certain to teach her the proper way of things…it would not do at all to have a dragon who acts like a human, after all.

       I did well enough, for a while longer, but my lack of attention to my own self caught up to me on the 8th day of Ches.  I guess that not sleeping very much, and not remembering to eat on a regular basis, combined with trying to take care of Sera, work, and meet with Rosaleen every few days was not a very healthy combination.

       I ended up collapsing, while working on a short sword at the forge.  One minute, I was doing my work, and the very next, I was on the floor of the shop, being shaken awake by none other than my employer, Brian.  Sera was wailing like banshee, tugging at one of my hands.  Before I could clear my head, the boy who tends the fire came running back into the store, followed closely by a harried looking Celedor.  I sat up cautiously, feeling like a fool…and feeling weary beyond belief.  It was strange, considering I had felt fine a few minutes before.

       "Keledrial, what happened?" Celedor asked.  I shrugged.  

       "I guess I am a little tired," was my reply.  

       "Tired?  Look at you," Celedor stated, almost angrily.  "When was the last time you took reverie?  Or ate?"  Again I shrugged.  At the time I wasn't even certain what day of the week it was, so I really wasn't sure of the answer to his question. Sera's wailing was beginning to make my head ache, so I grabbed her and told her to stop crying immediately.  Strangely enough, she listened, and her tears dried up when she saw that I was conscious again.  She calmed, and stuck her thumb in her mouth…another habit she picked up from watching human children…and sat down quietly, snuggling against my side.  I turned my attention back to the matter at hand.  Celedor poked and prodded at me, and mumbled a few chants, for spells.  I took the fussing stoically, and waited for the scolding.

       "Well," he finally said.  "There's nothing wrong with you that several nights of rest, and a few good meals won't cure.  The only problem is that you're so stubborn, you refuse to accept that you might need help."  I need precisely what he meant…that I should go to the others…but let us just say that the Anauroch desert will freeze over before that will happen.

       "I do not need help…I've just had a lot to worry about…and I forgot to do some things, that's all."

       "You forgot to eat and rest?!" Celedor snorted, sounding very unpriestly at the moment.  "Horse shit, Keledrial!  And this better not be some sort of new way you've thought up to punish yourself…I have told you…"

       "Celedor!" I interrupted, before he could blurt out all sorts of things about myself that I did not want my employer to know.  Speaking of Brian, he had his arms crossed, and a disapproving expression on his face.

       "I knew you were overworking yourself.  I told you to take a break, and now I am ordering you to.  I don't want to see you in here for at least half a ten-day, Airk.  I mean it…I can't have my smiths passing out from exhaustion.  Take a break, or I'll have to find someone who will."  I was shocked.  Brian would fire me because I refused to rest?!  

       "But I'm not overworking," I protested.  "I worked longer hours on Ruathym, and I like to work!"  Neither Celedor nor Brian were having any of that.  They didn't care my reasons.  They both ordered me to go home and go to sleep.  Banned from my own job for half a week!  

       After a bit more scolding, several curious glances at Sera, and extracting a promise that I would come and talk with him before the end of the ten-day, he left.  Brian was a little more obvious in his questions about Sera.  He asked who she was, and if she was the reason that I had asked to work nights.  I nodded and gave the excuse that she was my daughter, and said that there was no one I trusted to take care of her during the day.  He shrugged and said it was my business, but that he'd meant what he said.

       I probably would have been angry at all of the high-handedness, but truthfully, I was really beginning to feel the affects of exhaustion.  I gathered up my things, Sera and Sanhandrian, and returned to the loft.  I sent a note to Rosaleen, asking for her to come over as soon as she could.  I needed someone to keep an eye on Sera while I caught up on the rest I had been ordered to take.  I fully intended to stay awake until Rosaleen got there, but as soon as I got back up into the loft, and sat down on my furs, I passed out again.  

       When I woke up again, it was to the smell of smoke.  I bolted straight up, and blinked, afraid of fire, or that Sera was hurt.  It hardly seemed that I'd been resting more than a short while…I certainly still felt bone-tired.

       When I finally managed to keep my eyes open, and wave away the smoke, I saw who had caused it.  The party…all four of them, were in the loft.  Ranon was next to me, watching with his "cleric expression."  Hank was the cause of the smoke, as he waved some odd, smoldering leaves that smelled foul, around, claiming that they would wake me up, even if I were dead.  Calvin was standing by the trap door, looking distinctly uncomfortable, and disapproving.  Tobias was poking around near the cabinet.  There was no sign of Sera.  Needless to say, the last worried me the most.  

       "Sera!" I called out, and a moment later she burst out from where she was hiding, in the cabinet, and ran over, hiding behind me.  I would have been amused at the bewildered expressions on the faces of the others when they saw her, had I not wanted to lay back down so very much.  

       "What are you doing here?" I asked them, noting that even my voice sounded tired.  I was really not awake enough to have to deal with this at the moment.  I batted Hank's hand away, as he continued waving the smoking herbs about.

       "And stop that," I snapped at him.

       "Your boss sent a message to us…told us you were sick," Ranon stated.

       "So what?  Why should it matter to any of you anyhow?" I asked, rudely.

       "We're you're friends, that's why," the odd dwarf said.  I laughed…not a very healthy sounding laugh, mind you…all high pitched and bitter.  

       "My friends?" I repeated.  "That is a jest, and not a very good one, at that."

       "Just what do you mean by that?" Ranon asked.  

       "Friends," I spat the word out as though it were a curse, "do not forget about the existence of each other…nor do they condemn each other.  Since the four of you have done both to me, I do not think you deserve the right of calling me friend…nor, indeed, would I ever call you mine." I sneered.  I was almost surprised at the expressions on their faces.  Tobias looked as though I'd just slapped him.

       "What in the nine hells do you mean by that?" Tobias demanded.  

       "You figure it out.  I am quite certain that Ranon and Calvin have told everyone all about what a horrible creature I am…and I know, quite well that that is the reason you have all turned on me," I leaned up against the wall, crossing my arms.  I wanted them to just go away, but it seemed that they were not going to.  They all began speaking at once.

       " I didn't say anything to the others!" Ranon protested.  

       "Whoa, wait a minute…you're the one that has been impossible to get a hold of," Tobias stated.  " You're never here anymore!"

       "What the hells are you talking about?" Hank asked.

       "No one has turned on you, Airk," Calvin added.  "We thought to give you time to yourself…to think about things."  Calvin I believed least of all.  I'd seen his face…the expression of disgust on it…they might have given me time, yes…but I am thinking it was more time to realize that they neither needed, nor wanted me in the group anymore.  I shook my head, trying to clear the fog in it.  I wasn't certain what to say first.

       "Look…I know what's been going on…I am not an idiot, nor am I ignorant, contrary to popular belief…You're all building some sort of tavern…you don't need me, nor did you want my assistance…in fact, no one ever bothered to mention that you were doing so, to me…of course, that could be because I've not seen any of you at the tavern for months, now.  The tavern…or any of the other places you used to go.  If you don't want me around any longer…fine.  I don't need any of you…I'm nothing more than a shield to some of you," I looked pointedly at Tobias… "Or a mindless barbarian, who can not read, control my temper, or conceive of any concept beyond killing," I glanced at the others.  

       "Since I tire of being thought of in such terms, perhaps you would do better to find someone else to aid you with your…well, with whatever the hells you've all decided to do, since going after the people who attacked us doesn't seem to be high on your lists of priorities."  

       At that point chaos seemed to break loose in the loft.  Protestations, and questions flew back and forth between all the others.  No they did not think of me as I had stated, they said…Liars.  Tobias and Hank claimed that had no idea about what was going on, looking to Calvin and Ranon for answers.  Calvin claimed that he'd said nothing of what I had told him and Ranon, and added that he had not forgotten about our quest.  Ranon shouted that he hadn't said anything, for he'd not been around the rest of the party, either, working, instead at the Plinth. He was not even involved in the whole tavern scheme, that the others had told him nothing of that as well.  Sera, growing less shy, began to walk about, poking at the others…pulling at the dwarves beards, grabbing Tobias around the legs…I just managed to catch her before she managed to get hold of Calvin's knife, shouting at her not to take things that weren't hers.  She started running about the room, and then to make matters worse, up through the open door came Lita, not Rosaleen.  

       The human woman began to laugh when she saw everything that was going on. The others fell silent, and turned to regard her, even as Sera ran back to me, giggling over how she had managed to elude Tobias.  

       My head began to hurt.  I only half managed to pay attention to the rest of the conversation.  I vaguely recall introducing Lita to the others, saying that I had hired her to help us against the Shadow Thieves and the Stained Blade mercenaries. I think that the others might have given me surprised looks, that I'd hired a thief to help us, but I was too busy trying to keep Sera from running about.  

       I was almost thankful that the conversation shifted from me, to the subject of what we were going to do next.  I almost laughed seeing as it had appeared that the others hadn't heard a word I'd said.  They acted as though the past months had not happened, and as though everything were just fine and normal, when things were anything but.

       Lita spoke with the others about her qualifications, and I recall her asking if our party had a name or a title, as some adventuring groups do, or were we just "five guys without a clue?"  Ranon immediately replied that the latter would be more appropriate to us, seeing as we could hardly agree on small things, let alone a party name.  

       They spoke briefly about their tavern, saying that it was almost done, and that as soon as they'd finished, we need only wait for the snows to clear up, to leave of Llorkh.  I told them that I cared little enough, one way or the other, but warned them that I had heard that the snows were unusual and probably wouldn't let up for months. The others seemed to think that if the snow did not let up soon, that we would just ride through it, anyhow.  Finally, conversation began to die away, and I was having trouble keeping my eyes open.  Lita shooed the others out, and shut the door.  She told me to go back to sleep, and as I lay down, I heard her begin to tell Sera some story about a girl from a place called Calimport.

       Things got a little bit easier the next few weeks.  I no longer had to keep Sera hidden, so I was able to go out during the daytime.  After having spoken with Celedor at length, explaining all the current problems I was facing, I felt a bit better…especially knowing that he knew the truth about Sera.  He seemed very startled to learn that I had a baby silver dragon in my care, but he did not try to convince me that I should give her up, or anything.     

       I know that in the long run, I am fool, but part of me still wanted to recover the friendships that I had thought were growing in the party.  To that end, I did two things…one; I lent money to Hank and Tobias, when they came by asking for it.  They said they needed a small "loan" to finish furnishing their tavern.  Although I did not like the idea, and was still quite bitter about things, I gave them the loan, with the warning that it had better be paid back within a year.

       The second thing I did smacks even more of idiocy, but I did it anyhow.  I bought a horse.  Now, when I went looking for one, thinking it would amuse Sera to spend a day outside, looking at horses, I did not imagine finding a horse would be such a difficult task…but for some reason, it was.   It seemed that almost every one of the horse merchants in the city was out of merchandise.  I did not think to ask why, although I do wonder about it now.  Finally, I found a man with a horse he was willing to sell.  I took a look at it, wondering why in the nine hells I had taken this idea into my head.  It was a huge, black beast, with a long, flowing white main, and tail.  I am no judge of horseflesh, but I could see nothing wrong with the animal.  When I asked the man why no one wanted the horse, he said that it was because the beast had a temper, and was stubborn as mule, for one thing.  The man had thought to breed the horse, but with the horses temper, no one had wanted to risk their mares.  He told me that he'd only just decided to sell the black, which was probably why I had managed to find it all.  

       So I went up to the horse, looked in the eye.  He snorted, and tossed his mane, as though daring me.  I am no coward, and though I do not like horses…in the slightest, I decided to accept that challenge, in the hopes that Calvin would perhaps respect me more if I proved to him that I could ride one of his beloved horses.  He'd mentioned something, back when he'd gotten drunk in Skullport, about how he'd never be able to trust a man who hated horses.  Maybe it is taking the path of least resistance, but I suppose we all do what we must.   This is something I felt I must do.  After all, it is not that I don't know how to ride a horse, just that I don't like to.  So I looked over the black one final time and bought him.  So the beast is stubborn and has a temper…so do I.  We should suit well, I suppose.  I named the horse Lashrael, after one of Corellon's celestial servants, then I sent him to where I knew Calvin would be, with a note, that read, "If you will train him, I will ride him.  His name is Lashrael.  Keledrial"

       We shall see what happens.  Meanwhile, Ranon has taken to pestering me as soon as I get off of work.   He and Rosaleen both seem to think that I need to go out more, and the two of them are almost a united front to see that I do, even if it's just going down to a bar for a few drinks. Ranon told me that he, too, has been slighted by the others for some reason…that they did not include him in their little tavern-building scheme, either.  I suppose I believe him, but I can't imagine why they would slight him…after all, he's the party's cleric…then he mentioned something about how he went to talk with Elaith.  At first I was angry with him, seeing as he'd gone to Elaith to warn the older elf away from me…but apparently, he'd mentioned some things to Elaith that he shouldn't have…something about the Craulnober Moonblade, which had angered Lord Craulnober.  It seemed that the others all though Ranon was a fool for his deed, and that they were all afraid that Elaith was going to kill all of them out of hand.  I laughed, for I'd never heard anything more ridiculous.  Ranon tried to warn me that Elaith meant to call in all of the favors one of these days, and that the task he would have me do would be a dangerous one.  I believe I gave the dwarf a strange look, and replied that I well knew that, already, and that it was a matter of honor.  Elaith had given me aid, and information when I could find it no where else, so needless to say, I will aid him in whatever task he may someday require of me, as long as it not one that will endanger innocent people.  I fully expect my own life to be endangered…but then, I am an adventurer, and my life is endangered in a similar fashion during every "quest" we set out on.  Ranon did not seem pleased with my response, but he finally shut up, after I told him that the subject of Elaith Craulnober was closed to him for discussion.

       I think, that all in all, I have been rather good-natured about Ranon's presence, as he can be rather irksome at times, and somewhat oblivious at others.  He keeps insisting that he is trying to prove that I have one friend left in the party, and that he has forgiven me for my past.  I may believe his attempts at the former, but latter…I think not.  

       I gather that part of his estrangement with the others stems directly from Tobias, though.  Apparently, Ranon has gotten fed up with my fellow elf.  Tobias, you see, has this annoying habit of casting silence spells on people, whose voices he no longer wishes to hear.  Since Ranon and him have not been in agreement for sometime, Ranon is most usually the recipient of said spells…Tobias doesn't dare try the same with me.  I gather that Ranon finally got fed up with it, and he and Tobias are not on speaking terms.  Finally, I had to give the dwarf a bit of advice.  As a divine caster, he too, can cast silence.  I just told him to prepare some counter spells, so that Tobias' magic would not work…and failing that, to turn the tables, and silence Tobias.  I could tell by the vindictive gleam in Ranon's eyes that the idea held merit for him…and I almost pity Tobias.

The only thing that has been actually irritating me though is Lita.  Sera seems to have taken a liking to the human woman, and her stories.  It would not be a bad thing, in and of itself, it's just that I have no idea what Lita is telling Sera, and when I look over to wherever they are, the two of them giggle like it was me they were talking about.  It is most bothersome, and I worry about Sera picking up annoying human traits.  The only reason I allow it at all, is because Sera is a little girl, and I think that she needs some interaction with other females…still…I wonder if it was a good decision to let that woman be Lita.  

Other than that, though little of interest has been happening of late…but I have been getting more rest, thank Corellon for that.  I was beginning to feel weak again, and I cannot tolerate that.

Something occurred last night that considerably sped up our decision to leave for Llorkh…in fact, come morning, we are all heading out.

       Last night, you see, we were all attacked…all of the known party members.  Attacked by assassins.  I was working late at the forge…only a little seeing as I wanted to finish up the weapon I was working on.  Ranon had stopped by and demanded that I meet him down at the bar once I was through.  Sera was asleep in the corner…I still brought her with me, despite the odd looks I got from some of the others smiths…but at that time, I was alone save for the boy who watches the fire.  

       I did not see or hear a thing.  I don't even know how the bastard got in unseen, but he did.  All of a sudden, I felt agonizing pain rip through me, as my attacker drove a knife into my back.  Had the wound been only an inch or two to the left, the strike probably would have killed me.  It did not though.  I dropped my hammer onto the anvil, and summoned my axe into my hands, yelling at the boy who kept the fires, to go and get the guard…more to get him out of harm's way than any need I had for help.  Then I turned on my attacker.  He stepped from the shadows, silently…a half orc dressed all in dark clothing. He had no weapons save for the one that was still in my back.  I felt strangely calm as I attacked him.  It seemed surreal to me that I had been attacked in a place I had assumed to be safe.  My first attack connected, and the tusker grunted.  He moved on me, using his fists as weapons, bruising me, but little else.  I guess he'd assumed that the first attack would kill me.  When I moved again, however, a felt something burning and surging through my blood, poison I assumed…I lost my grip on my axe, in an attempt to keep whatever it was from affecting me.  I did not have time to search and retrieve my weapon from the other side of the forge, and had no others with me…so I picked up my smithy hammer to use instead.  

       In open, fair combat the ½ orc was little enough challenge.  Two more hits felled, the last I slammed the smithy hammer so hard into his skull that I had to use a bit of effort to pull it free.  His skull was crushed, and his life ended with it…as he'd meant to do the same to me.

       As soon as the battle was done, Sera came from the corner where she's been hiding.  She was crying, and upset, and I focused my attention on calming her, rather than on the awful, throbbing pain in my back.  I did not want her to be any more upset than she already was by knowing that I was hurt.

       After she was calm, I set her down, and told her to be still, as I searched the pockets of the corpse.  The first thing I found was a note, which I stuffed in my pocket to look at later.  He had several potions, and a ring on, but as soon as I touched the items, I felt something terribly, awfully wrong with them.  

       I have explained that I can sense magic in a thing, just by touching it…but what I felt on these items was not so much magic, as it was the absence of…or more like the opposite of magic.  It felt cold and wrong in my hands, and I dropped the items to the ground as though they'd burned, shattering one of the potions straight off.  I wiped my hand several times on my tunic, but it was almost like I could still feel the stain of the foul items on my hand.

       At that point, Ranon showed up, along with the guard.  The dwarf looked a bit worse for the wear, and quickly informed me that he, too, had been attacked.  The one who'd attacked him had been human, though, and had gotten away before Ranon could engage him in combat.  The dagger that Ranon had was a foul looking thing, with a symbol of a human goddess, called Talona on the hilt…Ranon said something about how this Talona was a goddess pestilence and sickness.  

       Meanwhile the guards bombarded me with questions, demanding to know what had happened. I explained as best I could, and when they seemed satisfied, they took the body away.  Not before, I took the head, though.  Yes, I know it seems barbaric, but after Ranon the letter out loud to me, I had a plan for the killer's head.  The letter read:

**By order of Severn Swiftblade of the Stained Blade **

For One Hundred Platinum pieces up front and One Hundred upon completion, an assassination order is issued.  The party is highly distinguishable by its party members; a tall, blue haired, berserking elf, a winged dwarf, a dwarf with a plant-like beard, an elven bard, and a human paladin of Tyr with a silver arm.

**      For payment, bring the heads of each of these party members and their weapons, the dwarf's wings and the paladin's arm to the Stained Blade Mercenary Headquarters on Broken Cane Street in Llorkh. **

**Ask for Thendel Black.**

**Severn Swiftblade**

Needless to say, I was not happy.  Finally, I leaned down, and quietly told Ranon to remove the dagger from my back, with out letting Sera see it.  I didn't want her overly upset.  To his credit, he did what I asked, and healed the wound at the same time, with no sound of protest out of me, though it hurt like the hells, and took a great deal of willpower to remain silent.

With the wound taken care of, and fortunately, the poison that had been on the blade did not seem to have affected me, I told Ranon to go find the others…to warn them if the attack had not yet happened, or to aid them if it already had.  Meanwhile, I took Sera, and went to find Lita.  Although she had not been mentioned in the letter, I thought it would be a good idea to make certain that she was all right, or at least warn her of the danger.  I told Ranon to bring the others back to town

Fortunately, I found her talking with Rosaleen.  She had not been attacked, but then as I said, she'd not been mentioned in the note.  I doubt anyone knew that she'd joined us yet.  We waited there at the bar, with the others, for a few hours.  Finally, they showed up.  Calvin and Hank looked all right, but had a bit of blood spattered on them, but Tobias looked like death warmed over.  Apparently, though, that was just what he was.  They'd all been out at their little tavern, when they'd been attacked, the same as Ranon and I.  Tobias had been killed by the first attack, while Calvin and Hank had survived and managed to kill their attackers.  Using gold they'd found in the assassins' pockets, they'd had a priest of Tyr bring Tobias back before his soul had gone too far.  I couldn't say that I approved, but the deed was already done, and I did not like the idea that Tobias might even now be dead, so I said nothing. 

       We decided, that with this latest attack…on us specifically, that we could no longer afford to wait for the snows to clear.  We made the choice to leave for Llorkh as soon as possible, hoping that we if the assassins who'd failed returned, that we would not be far behind them, and we would still have the element of surprise on the mercenaries who'd ordered our deaths.  It meant that we would have to travel a fairly long distance, though potentially heavy snow, though, so we had a bit of preparation to see to, and little time in which to do it.  

After working out the details, of what needed to bought, when and where to meet, and so on, the others brought out the "loot" recovered from the assassins' bodies.  The money was gone...having gone to resurrect Tobias, but as with the one who attacked me, there were several potions, and rings, and a wand or two…but everything had the same…miasma of darkness about them that made me feel vaguely sick to touch.  I warned the others of what I felt about the items, and they seemed confused…Tobias in particular.  He claimed he felt nothing wrong from the potions or wands, and he, too, was a wizard.  I insisted there was.  Finally, I took one of the potions…meant to be a potion of healing, I think, and a regular one, that had been bought at a church, and held the two together.  Looking closely, there was a slight difference…the normal one was just that: normal…but the other…it seemed almost shadowy…as though it were trying to avoid light, or something.  It is very hard to explain…no one seemed to have any idea what the phenomenon was, but as I refused to touch any of the items, the others seemed almost leery of doing the same.  As a test, though, Tobias, ever curious, tried out one of the wands, on a mouse…the mouse died, as per the spell…but immediately there after, Tobias claimed he felt a terrible draining effect when he'd used the wand.  

Since it was not that late yet, we went to the one place where it was likely to find answers…the mage's guild.  One of the older, human, wizards knew exactly what was wrong with the items, as soon as he took one look at them.

"Shadow magic," he stated, a note of disgust in his voice.  

"It is not magic," I insisted.  "I've cast detection spells, and nothing registers…and I can feel it…it's not magic…more like an absence thereof."

"It is not magic in the sense of the weave," the other clarified.  "It is more like the darkness in the spaces between the weave…like a kind of dark, opposite version of true magic.  It is mostly used by the followers of the goddess Shar."

I had heard nothing like such…not in any of the books I've read, and that is saying something.  But this Shar, is a human goddess…and that makes sense to me.  No elf would ever tolerate the use of such a foul energy…it had to be human in discovery, use, and origin, for only humans would be ambitious enough to use a force so blatantly wrong.

With that knowledge, we now had another reason to be on guard…for shadow magic, so the wizard had said, could not affect true magic, nor could true affect shadow…and that is a dangerous problem.

We gathered all the supplies we needed the next day…food, warm clothing, and so on, packing up weapons and armor.  I did consider leaving Sera behind, but in the end, could not.  For one, I did not trust anyone enough to care for her for so long, and for another, the mere threat of being left at the church, or with anyone but me sent Sera into gales of hysterics…I hate to see her cry.  Yes, I know that taking her with me is dangerous as well, but I have no other option acceptable.  She will be safe enough, for she already knows to hide if anything dangerous or unknown approaches…and in the pocket, she is perfectly safe.  However, after almost being killed, it occurred to me, that there was a very good chance that I might not survive the next encounters…so I decided to make certain that Sera would be cared for.  I wrote out a will, in which I gave everything that was mine to Sera in the event of my death.  Sera herself would go to the church of Corellon in Waterdeep and raised there.  The guardian I named for her was Elaith Craulnober.  Now, I am certain the others would think me a fool for the latter, but I think of it this way…Elaith is someone who has not yet betrayed me…and if nothing else, he has a daughter…one that he cares for…and that was enough for me to give him trust of Sera until she was of age. I left copies of the document at the church, along with a large portion of money. Celedor claimed he would keep care of the document, but he did not look happy at all…I did not inquire as to why.  Another copy was sent to Elaith, and I carry the third with me…just in case.

Finally, all was in order…my absence for the next few months had been reported to all those who needed to know, and all necessary items and been packed and bought for the journey. Rosaleen was not at all happy at my leaving, but that is too bad, I have little choice at this point, for I will not just sit here, and wait for more assassins to be sent after me…perhaps next time to succeed.  All the same, part of me was a bit saddened as we left Waterdeep…for I had begun to grow comfortable in the routine I'd established there.  A greater part feared that, though. I did not want to feel comfortable in a human city…it is just a place to wait until I could go home again.  I will not let it become anymore than that.

Well, it has been a very long journey, and we are now but a day or so from Llorkh.  I write know, after so long an absence, because I do not know when I will next have a chance to do so.  The snows seem almost never ending, and trudging through them grew tiresome after the first ten-day.  Once I managed to establish who was in charge, Lashrael and I get along well enough that the damnable beast does not dare through me, as much as he tries my patience.  I think, though, that my goal was not accomplished, in that Calvin does not seem to see that I can ride, only that I still dislike horses, no matter my skill.  The damned human is impossible, I vow.  I have not written much, for there has been little to write about.  Sera has learned more words, and is more and more precocious…needless to say it has been quite a trial to keep her true form from the others, but I think that I have managed it.  Like all dragons, though, she has already begun to develop a fondness for gems and coins, and things that sparkle, and she has begun "collecting" such items, and hiding them in the pocket, or in her backpack…which she insisted I buy for her, to keep her "things" in.  As far as I know, she keeps nothing more than her "treasures" a wooden doll I bought her, and a few odds and ends in, though.  

I fear something greater than just a thieves' guild is on the rise in Faerun, though.  Just yesterday, we only managed to avoid a huge hoard of creatures, orcs and goblins and the like, which passed by us.  Now, initially, I had wanted to attack them, though they greatly outnumbered us, for letting such evil walk about unhindered felt wrong to me.  After a bit of arguing, Calvin agreed, but the others would have none of it, saying that an attack would be foolhardy and suicidal.  I knew the chances were slim, but that did not change my mind…I grumbled that it would only be just if the circus where Tobias hailed from was in the area, for the hoard to attack, but Tobias cheerfully assured me that they would be further south for the winter.  Without the backing of the rest of the party, I knew that attacking would mean certain death…and I am not so foolish yet.  My death would leave Sera and my corpse in the hands of the party, and Corellon only knows what they might decided to do…although I did tell Lita that should anything happen to me, that she must see Sera to the church in Waterdeep.  She seemed surprised to hear that there was elven temple there, but assured me that she would do what she could.

Our next task was to get into Llorkh, as it was a walled city.  We did not want the mercenaries to be warned, so our best plan was to come us with some sort of disguises, so as to hide our more noticeable features.  We argued for a bit over the type and nature of the disguises.  Finally we settled on a traveling troupe of bards, seeking refuge from the snows.  Lita insisted on non-magical disguises, though, claiming that magic was too easily dispelled or seen through.

So we all sat there, in relative and collective misery as Lita changed our faces, races, and so on.  Calvin acquired a beard, and a several scars.  Ranon's wings vanished, and was given a fancy cloak to distract the eyes from his face.  Hank's beard and hair looked more like actually hair, and less like vegetation.  I swear I almost called the whole thing off when she came after Tobias and I with pots of foul-looking paint…Tobias' green hair, and my own silvery blue locks soon turned black, our skins darkened to a humanish tan, our ears hidden beneath stupid looking hats, and so on.  I balked when she wanted me to put on some strange looking outfit, that I was positive would not fit, anyhow.  I insisted on magic, using one of the affects of my armor to change the appearance of my attire.  Upon getting a glance at myself in a mirror Lita had, I swear I almost fell over.  I looked nothing like Keledrial, or even Airk…but far more like some greasy, human hack of a wizard, in gaudy robes.  In short…it was a great disguise, but horrified me nonetheless.  To save the trouble of having to disguise Sera, I took her out of sight of the others, and convinced her to change her form to match how I looked now.  Thinking it a game, she did so, turning from a pretty little elven girl, to a human child, with dark hair, and round ears.  When I brought her back with me, the others all gave me strange looks that demanded explanations…of which I gave none.

So we made our way into Llorkh.  It didn't prove to be overly difficult, especially with Lita dazzling the male guards with her…assets.  As soon as we got past the front gates, Calvin mentioned that both of the guards had been evil.  That was comforting.  

The were only two inns in the town…and the first one we went to, the Hanged Dwarf was entirely unacceptable…even beyond the most obvious reason of the name.  The owner was a fat, disgusting human, who made his distaste for any non humans well known, he served watered down liquor, the place was ridden with vermin, and the patrons were all less than savory looking.  So we went to the other place, called the Slaughtered Cow…lovely names.  It far more satisfactory, run by a human woman, who shook her head when she learned we'd gone to the Hanged Dwarf first.  She gave us fair enough prices on the rooms, and the food was actually edible.  Plus, she wasn't evil, although Calvin claimed the other man had been.  

She only had four rooms, however.  Hank and his menagerie took one, while I claimed one for Sera and I.  Lita claimed that she would share with Calvin, laughing about who better than a paladin to protect her virtue…though I question whether she has any, anyhow…after all, she certainly doesn't act like some virginal maid…at least I don't think she does.  She's always making these lewd comments to all of us…not that I mind…but Calvin tends to blush.

That left the last room for Ranon and Tobias, who seemed to be about to pummel each other.  Their little argument had not gotten any better in the four months of travel it had taken us to reach here. But since they had no other choice, they put up with it.  I do hope they don't murder each other.

So we sent Lita out to find where the mercenaries were located. She returned a few hours later with the necessary information.  Then followed the several hours long planning session.  For about the first hour, the only thing we could all agree on was that chagrining in blindly was a very dumb idea.  Several plans were brought and up, summarily discarded, until we finally came up with an idea we thought just might work. 

It was decided that two of us, namely Calvin and myself, would go into the guild, looking for a reward.  We would disguise the preserved head of the ½ orc who had attacked me, as my head, with spells, and say that we'd met up with the ½ orc, and killed him in a fight…found the letter and the head, and decided to come claim the reward.  We would act as though impressed by the set up of the place, and see if we couldn't get a job there.  One or the other ruse would be most likely to get us in to see Severn Swiftblade.  The rest of the party would follow us in, invisible for the most part, and wait for Calvin and I to begin the attack.  Then we would finish off what the damned mercenaries had started.

To go through with the plan, Lita claimed we would need to change disguises again.  Using spells, and more of her foul substances and disguises, Calvin and I were made to look as warriors, but more like a pair of human, Ruathym warriors, and less like our usual selves.  Calvin's holy symbols were hidden away, and his arm concealed under a glove and long sleeved shirt.  Lita insisted on making me wear some stupid piece of fur in my face, insisting that I still looked to elven.  No matter how I protested, she wouldn't give in, the evil wench.

So our disguises were in place, and we cast the invisibility spells, and so on. We wanted to do this as soon as possible…before anyone had a chance to realize that the group of bards in town, were not a group of bards at all…and since I'd had the nagging sensation of being scryed on all day, we decided the sooner, the better.

Gaining entrance to the Stained Blade mercenary house was as easy as expected.  The men at the door fell for the story…especially seeing as we had both the letter, and a head… although, I must admit, it is a bit disconcerting to look at one's own "severed head."  

The man who came to speak with us about the reward was called Thendel Black, a black-haired brute of a human that reminded me a bit of a weasel.  He laughed when he saw the head, and letter.  After examining the head for a moment, he stuck it on a candleholder, with a sickening crunch.  He asked where the weapons were, and I showed him my axe, but added that I'd be keeping the weapon, as I'd developed a fondness for it, using my best Airk voice.  Calvin added that we were both out of work, and wondered if there might not be an opening for a few decent fighters.

"You're warriors, eh?" Thendel asked.

"No…he's a wizard, and I'm a paladin of Tyr," Calvin replied.  I might've hit him, but Thendel started laughing, as though the statement had been an amusing joke. I suppose it was, for anyone looking at Calvin and I, as we were disguised, would probably never have guessed what we really were.  

Thendel took us exactly where we wanted to go…to see Severn Swiftblade.  We were lead outside of the building, to a walled training ground, where there were at least fifteen or so human men, and a few ½ orcs training.  The training, I immediately noticed, was brutal.  One man was being carried away, with an arm nearly severed, as we walked up.  The leader, Severn was watching from the sidelines with a critical eye.  He was human, with dark brown hair, dressed in plain clothes, with a Great sword on his back.  In the center of the yard, wiping blood from his weapon was none other that the Orog who'd taken Calvin's arm on the bridge…the weapon he carried was the same foul axe that had done the deed.  I saw Calvin stiffen a little, and hoped he would not attack rashly…as I would have done…we needed just a little more time for everyone to move into positions.

Thendel approached Severn and they talked for a few moments, before both of them moved over to speak with us.  

"So you want to join, do you?" Severn asked.  We both gave affirmative answers. 

"Well, if you're fighters, then you won't be adverse to a bit of a test…to see what your skills are."   Again, Calvin and I nodded our agreement.

"Well then, you'll be fighting Carver.  Why don't you," he pointed to Calvin, "go first."

I watched as Calvin hesitated, then agreed.

"You can take him, Calvin," I stated.  He made some flippant comment, but I could see that he was tense.  Here was his chance for vengeance…or justice…whichever way he wanted it.  I would let him have the fight, give him the chance to make amends for his arm…and then we would start the fun.

I stood at the corner of the field, and watched as Carver and Calvin began to tear into each other.  The rest of the fighting stopped as people gathered around the field to watch the battle.  Calvin's fighting skills were good, as usual, and he hit Carver nearly every time…but for all that Carver lacked finesse, his blows connected, breaking past Calvin's guard, and hitting with far more force than Calvin was able of summoning.  A minute passed, and Calvin was bleeding freely from many wounds.  Carver hardly looked winded, though he, too, had several wounds.  Realizing the fight was not going as well as I had hoped, I realized that now was the perfect time to begin…when everyone was distracted.  I took a few steps back, and pulled two red dragon scales from my pocket, planting the tip of my axe in the ground in front of me, so that I could pick it up quickly, when I was, inevitably attacked.

The first fireball I aimed to the exact opposite side of the field, where Severn had stopped for a moment to speak with Thendel.  The scale in my hand was consumed, as I moved my fingers through the necessary gestures.  A ball of orange roared from my hands, and exploded…with Severn as the center.  Before anyone had a chance to recover from the shock, I cast again, an another fireball exploded, this one engulfing the men nearest to me, and just catching Carver within the blast, giving Calvin time to step back from the fight, and lay on hands to himself, healing the worst of the wounds.  I had time for one more spell…to make certain that I would strike true, before the nearest men charged me, weapons drawn.  I vaguely caught sight of the rest of the party beginning to appear about the field.  Hank went after Thendel…who was beginning to change…in fact, he grew larger…more furry, and his face took on a distinctive wolf shape to it.  A werewolf!  Ranon appeared near Calvin, alternately healing the paladin, and attacking the men around him.  Calvin still struggled with his battle with Carver, but someone had tossed the Orog his evil axe, and it seemed to be doing more damage to Calvin than possible.  There was no sign of Lita yet, but I could hear Tobias singing, his song magical in nature, and bringing better focus to my attacks.  I hacked though my attacks as though they were little more than wood.  One after another attacked me, and yet missed, falling instead, to my axe.  At first I though to move my way towards Severn, who had his sword drawn, and men with him, but seemed more to be watching… waiting to see how this would all end.  Unfortunately, I turned to see Calvin take a hit that nearly felled him, and with Ranon working to keep to attackers at bay, the two seemed to be in dire straights.  I charged at Carver, axe readied.  He did not expect an attack from behind, I think, for I cleaved him nearly in two with the force of my blow.  He fell, dead at Calvin's feet, and Calvin gave me a grateful look.  Shaking my head, I glanced about.  Hank seemed to be having a bit of trouble with the werewolf…in fact, a lot of trouble, as I saw the creature that had been Thendel take a bit out of him…but even as I moved to help, Lita finally appeared.  She leapt onto the werewolf's back, and wrapped a bit of wire around his neck…she locked it, somehow, and leapt off, as Thendel began to gag, and gasp, his claws digging to get the wire off…but to no avail.  When he realized that he was going to strangle to death, with no way to escape his fate, he seemed bound and determined to take at least Hank or Lita with him.  Tobias saved the day, though, when he threw a small, black bead at Thendel.  It exploded, and when the fire cleared, Thendel was imprisoned within some sort of circular force field that he was unable to escape from.

So, with the rest of the party taken care of, I continued to cut my way over to where Severn was.  Finally, I noticed that I had no opponents left, as the last few ran in terror.  I had killed upward of ten of the humans, and 3of the half-orcs…actually beheading one of them…and I had yet to take a single scratch. I suppose that that is a bit intimidating.

When I moved into position in front of Severn, hoping for a real fight, at least, he merely grinned, but did not bother to bring up his weapon.

"You know, if I were hiring now, I would definitely offer you a job, but since I have a war to start, I believe I'll be off, now."  Before I could do anything, he vanished, leaving only a strange, familiar smell behind that I could not quite place.  I do not know what he did; only that he had not cast magic, nor used a device that was magic related.  Needless to say, I was…irked.

I may even have destroyed a few things, as I went through the mercenaries' house.  I did manage to calm down though…after all we had gotten most of them, and while searching through the building, and the belongings of the mercenaries, we did come across a letter that gave reference to Severn little comment about a war.  The note we found spoke of killing the council of a city called Mirabar, and making it look as though Luskan was behind the deed, to begin a war between the two cities.  Now, I did not so much mind the idea of a war between Luskan and anyone else…so long as the Luskanites were thoroughly trounced…still I cannot, in good conscience dismiss the idea that innocent people would be killed to start said war, so we began to try and figure out what to do next, even as we finished stripping the house and the corpses of anything worthwhile…after all such a long journey costs money, of which, I notice, the party never seems to have much of…except for me.

Since the danger had passed, I let Sera come out of the pocket, where she's been told to stay, on pain of punishment.  I did not try to hide the bodies or anything from her…yes, she is a little girl, but she is also a little dragon, and one that is being raised by myself…so she might as well get used to the sight of blood.  I believe her response to the sight was something to the effect of "ick."  She daintily kept from stepping in the blood, and kept her face pressed against my leg, so as not to see the "dead, bad, men." However, she was not so disgusted that she did not manage to "find" a few gold pieces to "play with," or that she did not find a small magical item...a feather, in the pockets of one of the mercenaries cloak, and declare that it was hers, with all the imperiousness of any princess.  I suppose I spoil her a bit…seeing as I usually give in to the least expensive of her demands, and often give her a coin to distract her if she's being difficult…she does seem to be entranced by the sparkle of anything shiny…but her taste invariably runs towards that which is most expensive.  I think that she is already beginning to collect a hoard…it must be something subconscious on the part of all dragons, I guess.

While we were poking around, Tobias came upon a small map, hidden in a secret draw of a desk.  The map looked as though it were a normal map of Llorkh, except that it had a word marked in the basement of one shop: portal.  We had to hope that this meant there was a portal there…hopefully to wherever Severn had gone.  Our only choice was to follow, for there was no way for us to reach Mirabar in time to stop the attack. Mirabar was several months travel away…the attack was set to occur on Midsummer's night…a little more than three ten-days away.  Strange that the weather is still so cold and damp, when last year at this time, it was warm as any summer.  I suppose that it is merely a quirk of nature, or the whim of some god.  

We dragged all the bodies into the mercenaries' house, and left.  Some one would find them all in a day or two, but we would, hopefully, be long gone by then.  We returned to the inn, and gathered our things and steeds, and then found the shop that had been marked on the map.  It was a wine shop, and the merchant was not too happy when we entered and demanded to see his basement.  A small stack of coins, and a determined look eased our passage…but when we got below, there was no sign of the portal.  The shop keeper claimed to know nothing of what we spoke, and he seemed so bewildered, I think I believed him. Tobias inadvertently found the way, when he held the map up to a candle, to see if there were not some clue that we had missed.  When the light shone beneath the paper, it illuminated some words on the parchment that we had not seen before…some kind of ink that could only be read by candlelight was the reason for it…or so Tobias claimed, as he read what was written.  The words contained the instructions for how to activate and use the portal.  Since we would be going through momentarily, those of us with animals went upstairs, and led them through the shop, and down into the basement.  Lashrael was the only problem, as the beast's hind-quarters barely fit through the narrow openings, and a bit of pushing had to be done to persuade him to enter the building in the first place.  Fortunately, I am far more stubborn that he is.  The shopkeeper gain protested but was ignored.  Tobias activated the gate, and we stepped through, one at a time, weapons readied, just in case.  When we stepped on ground, again, it was onto cold, hard dirt, with patches of snow still scattered about.  About a hundred yards away, a city rose up before us.  When we got closer, and made to enter the place, which was fairly large, the guards confirmed that it was Mirabar, although they did seem a bit curious as to why we would not know the name of the city.

Once inside, I first noted that there were a great many humans…and then, that there were a like number of dwarves.  Mirabar, it seems, is a city that is split between the mayflies and the diggers.  Wonderful.

We found a nice enough inn…human run, called the "Battle-axe and Tackle…whatever the nine hells such a name is supposed to imply. Still, it was clean enough…the food was good, and they were able to provide a bath, so that I could wash the hideous black coloring out of my hair. It took me two whole tubs of water, and more scrubbing than I care to think about to completely wash all of Lita's horrible paints and powders from my hair and skin.  By Corellon, I hate disguises!

Sera had a bath as well, and changed herself back into her normal form, when she was done, delighting in being a dragon again, and flapping about the room, exploring things.  She declared that she wanted to sleep in the closet that was in the room, so I set her bedroll up there.  I can hardly think why she always chooses such small dark places to sleep…although most dragons do seem to live in caves and the like, so perhaps that, like the hoard gathering, is inherited.  Dragons are quite odd indeed.  

We all met downstairs shortly after, to discuss a plan.  It was decided that Lita and Tobias would try to ferret out where Severn could have gone in the city, since they are both more adept at that sort of thing.  Calvin we decided would try to find a way to speak with the members of the council that would be meeting, and try to warn them of the danger.  After all, it was far more likely that a group of councilmen would listen to the words of a paladin of Tyr than anyone else…why would a paladin lie?  Add to that the note we had found in the mercenaries house, and if the council did not believe him then, then perhaps hey were fools and deserved their fate.

That left nothing for the two dwarves and myself to do.  The dwarves claimed they would ask about for Severn, aw well, in the dwarven part of Mirabar…Lita however, nixed that idea, claiming that if they did such, Severn was certain to learn that we were here, and might change his plans.  So as I said, that left nothing for me, or the dwarves to do…well, actually the dwarves did have things to do.  Ranon claimed he would be working on re-enchanting his wand of curing wounds, and that we were to leave him alone for a few days.  Hank had to find some belladonna and wolfs bane and a priest who could potentially help with a lycanthropy infection, since he had been bitten by a werewolf.  So he, too, was not seen for a day or so.

I wandered about the city for the first few days feeling rather bored.  I had nothing to do to keep me busy, which is not something I am used to.  Oh, Sera was trouble enough, I suppose, but she's not really that hard to deal with, now that she seems to understand more.  I did spend a good bit of gold on buying things for her…mostly clever toys that had been made by the dwarves.  I couldn't be upset about the expenditure, though, for the toys occupied her hands and her mind, which I can only think are good things for a small child.  I, on the other, am always curious about different forms of smithing…and being that Mirabar had a great deal of dwarves about, it seems there was a different forge at every corner.  I was surprised to find that most of the owners of the places were not unfriendly, and more than willing enough to let me watch them work, and explain some of their techniques.  I think that some of them thought me very young, despite my size and height…or perhaps they did not realize that I already knew the craft very well. In the three weeks we had before Midsummer's, though, I learned a few new techniques that I was itching to try out.

On the third night in Mirabar, I happened to turn around to see that my "shadow" had returned.  Tobias was following me.  Now, I was still angered at the actions of the others…in case you can't tell, I am not exactly pleasant when it comes to grudges… still, Tobias' defection had hurt the most, seeing as he was the only other elf I had to speak with on a daily basis.  I asked him why he was bothering me, and he claimed that he was bored.  In a sneering tone, I told him that if he was so bored, why did he not go bother the dwarves…or Calvin…or build himself another tavern for that matter.  He seemed almost comically confused by my ire, and asked if I was still sore that they'd not told me about the tavern.

"No," I stated, calmly.  "I am not "sore" about that…only wondering why it is, that you suddenly decided that a dwarf and a human's company is vastly preferable to mine, after you have made jests time and time again about them."  I think I managed well, hiding my hurt.

"Look, Hank and Calvin aren't that bad," he replied. "You just have to get to know them a bit."

"I have not been extended that option," was my retort.

"Look, Calvin said that you needed some time…and you were never around to be found anyhow.  Besides…you've been keeping secrets too…like whom the girl is," he pointed to Sera, who was chasing Sanhandrian about.  My familiar was not overly upset though, and seemed to think it was a great game…or at least he thought it was fun unless Sera managed to catch him. 

"She's my daughter," I stated, using the lie I had adopted…only it wasn't so much of a lie…she was a bit like my daughter, since I am raising her, and am the only parent she has.

"She is not…for one, she's too old…you said when you met me that I was the first elf you'd seen in four decades."

"I lied," I stated…unconvincingly.  He shook his head.

"The problem is that you're not any good at lying, you know.  I know she's not your daughter.  For that matter, she's not even an elf, is she?"

"Of course she is!  She's mine!  Look at her…she has my same hair!  She looks just like me…a little tiny me, anyhow." I protested, not liking that Tobias was getting so close to the truth.

"Why can't you just trust me with the truth? "

"Because I don't trust you, and you do not trust me," I replied, irritated.  

"But you trust Elaith Craulnober, though," Tobias stated.

"No…and that's not the issue here.  Even if I did, he's certainly done more to earn it than you have," I snapped.  

"Do you know he threatened to kill Ranon?"  

"If he did, then Ranon probably said something stupid to earn such a threat…and I will not listen to any more senseless accusations about Elaith Craulnober.  I cannot understand why it is that you all hate him so…oh, wait I know," I sneered.  "It is because none of you think that those of us who make terrible mistakes should be forgiven."

"Look, for the last time, I don't know whatever it was you told Calvin and Ranon.  Your past is your own business.  Besides, do you think I haven't messed up before? I was raised in a circus, for Hanali's sake!  I was born causing trouble!"  I said nothing, just continued walking once more.  Tobias seemed determined, though, and kept following me.

"Where are you going?" he asked me.

"Wenching," was my answer, hoping it would get him to leave.  After all Tobias had yet to show any interest in the female sex, and despite his claims, I do not thing he knows, any better than I did how to go about talking with them.

"Where?"  

"I don't know yet…I have to find a tavern with pretty wenches, first."

"Why don't I come along, then," he said, casually.

"You?!" I exclaimed.  "You…wenching?  You don't even know how!"

"I do so!"

"Really…" I drawled, sarcastically.  "Prove it."

"Fine…I will," Tobias declared.  And since I am not one to pass up a challenge, I had to do as I had said.  I took Sera back to the inn where we were staying and managed to locate Lita.  The human woman claimed she'd be glad to keep and eye on Sera for a few hours, while Tobias and I…went wenching.  Since Sera likes Lita, there were no major hysterics from her when I left…a few tears which I am certain dried up the moment Lita started telling her some story, or the like.  

So Tobias and I went wenching.  To my chagrin, he did seem to know what he was doing…and by the time I had managed to get the silly wench on my lap to agree to "find a room" with me, he was already upstairs, with his own "companion."  Now, I must admit, that I gained a bit of respect for Tobias, upon learning that he was quite able to meet my challenge.  In fact, when we returned to our own inn, some long time after the sun had set, we were conversing once more in a friendly manner.  Of course, we were both a bit drunk at the time, so it is no surprise that we came up with a "brilliant" idea at the time.  Since the night had been so successful, Tobias and I decided that it might be just the thing to get the entire party back on speaking terms again.  Since we had some three weeks 'til Midsummer's…or rather, Shielmeet, as it would be this year, we hatched the plan.  We spent the rest of the next day seeking out the perfect place to hold this "event."  The Scoundrel's Crypt inn proved to be perfect…just on the edge of the human and dwarven parts of town, it was fairly large, and had just the right mix of dwarves and humans.  The human wenches all seemed fair enough, and we guessed that the dwarven wenches would be sufficient as well…although I admit, I am certainly no judge of dwarven females…in fact, the first one I'd ever seen was at that tavern…and I swear, they look just like the men, only with breasts and without beards.

As dusk approached, we sought out the others.  Tobias was left to coerce Hank, while I got the job of convincing Ranon.  I dropped Sera off with Lita again…I don't think she was awfully happy that I was leaving her again, for the night, and she only consented to my departure after I vowed to spend the next two days at the inn with her.  She is a very demanding child…but then, she is a dragon, after all.

Ranon proved to be not as difficult as I'd expected.  He'd finished whatever he'd been working on, and though the idea of going out to have a drink was a fine one.  He was a bit more skeptical about the wenching part, but I assured him, that as he was such an "exotic" looking dwarf, that the wenches would not be able to resist him.  I do not know for certain whether or not that was true, however, I do know that Rosaleen claimed that that was the reason she liked me so much…being exotic that is.

Once all four of us, non-humans agreed, we went after Calvin, trying to think how to convince the upright, paladin that a night of drinking and wenching was a fine idea, even for him.  He actually did not put up too much of a fight either, claiming that he probably would not have much to drink, and that he did not "wench," for he was waiting for the "right woman."  Bloody fool, if you ask me, but he agreed to come, anyhow…in the name of camaraderie, as he put it.  He added that he'd talked with two of the more important council members and warned them of the danger.  Both seemed concerned enough to hire more guards, and the dwarven one…a councilman, Hungir had invited all of us to dinner the next week, so that he might meet us.  Calvin said that the dwarf meant to invite us to the council meeting, to help keep an eye on things.  So with the work out of the way, Calvin claimed it would be all right to "relax" a little.

We got him to have a few drinks anyhow…not enough to get him drunk, but enough to get him to loose a few of his inhibitions.  The tavern filled quickly, with a multitude of dwarves and humans.  I do believe that, as usual, Tobias and I were the only elves in the place; but I am used to that.  

The wenching went well for Tobias and the dwarves, and sometime around midnight, they each left with their new "friends."  Ranon and Hank had had a bit of trouble at the first, but a bit of helpful advice on my, and Tobias' part remedied their problems.  

I wasn't all that interested in wenching that night, though, and my inattentiveness had the girl warming lap, leaving after a bit.  The crowd was starting to get more intoxicated, and a little rough.  Suddenly, I felt a bit homesick for Ruathym, strangely enough…or maybe Airk…never mind.  In any case, the situation was just right for a fight, and I remembered all the times Eirick and I caused fights back on Ruathym.  Since the only one left in the party was Calvin, and since he would not commit to wither a good, hard-core drinking fest, nor a wench, I decided that a good fight was in order…but first I had to soften him up.  So when a squat little dwarf, with an insanely busy beard walked by, saw me and muttered something about prissy elves in the bar, I immediately perked up for the coming battle.  I muttered loudly about ugly dwarves, too cowardly to insult a man to his face, and the battle was on.  A large area was cleared in a matter of seconds, and I heard people taking and placing bets, even as the first punch was thrown.  I've never fought, fist to fist with a dwarf before, but it required a bit more skill, seeing as he had easy shots at my legs, but his skull was all I could easily hit…and a dwarf's skull is thicker than hewn granite, I think.  The dwarf, "Werrid," by name put up a good fight, managing once to take my feet out from under me.  He grabbed a hold of my ears, and slammed my head into the floor boards, a cheap shot to be certain, but I retaliated, by grabbing a hold of his beard, lifting his feet from the ground, and hurling him into the wall…an amazing feat, considering the bush on his face that he called a beard did not want to let loose of my hands.  In the end though, I was the stronger, and drove him to his knees with a series of punches to his face, and gut.  Apparently, the people in this bar were well versed in bar-fighting etiquette.  Werrid shook my hand, and thanked me for a rousing fight.  I bought him a drink, and sat back down by Calvin.

"Well, you seemed to enjoy that," he stated, with a bit of a grin.  I nodded.

"There's nothing like a good bar-fight to get the blood moving," I laughed.  

"So how does one go about having one," Calvin asked.  I gave him an incredulous stare.

"You've never had a bar-fight?" I asked.  He shook his head.  Amazing.  I suppose, though, that bar-fights aren't something that paladins of Tyr often indulge in.  

"Well, just pick out a likely target, and insult them…if they insult you back, the fight is on," I explained.

"Oh…I don't know if I could do that…attack a perfect stranger, just to start a fight?  But perhaps some one I knew…perhaps a barbaric…ugly, elf?"  I saw immediately where he meant to go, and since the insult had been so pathetic, I did not even bother to take offense.

"Better a barbarian, than a horse-loving, stick up the backside paladin, Calvin," I replied, standing once more.  Calvin stood as well, and stood a few feet away.

"Now what are the rules? " he asked, as he picked up a chair, and hurled it at me.  I ducked, though the leg of it clipped me on the shoulder.

"Well, now my fine horse-lover…there aren't rules, save that you don't use the furniture for weapons," I broke that rule even as I spoke it, by hoisting and throwing a table at him. Behind me, the betting began in earnest.  

"No?" he asked, dodging it.

"And no real weapons either…just these," I held up my fists, and promptly cracked him one in the face.  He spat out a little blood, and held up his own fists.  The fight was on.

Now, I don't know that a punch-by-punch description is necessary…not that I can remember much of the fight anyhow, being half-drunk at the time.  Calvin is a tough fight, something I usually admire him for.  What he lacks in strength, he makes up for in finesse.  Unfortunately for him, I can take more hits than he can, and I dish out more damage than he can.  For all that, though he made an excellent showing.  The fight must've lasted quite a while, and we beat each other black and blue.  I knocked out one of Calvin's teeth in the final punch that drove him to his knees, even though I was hardly on my feet as it was.  I knew for a fact that I had at least one black eye, and I might've broken a finger or two.  I won by the fact that I was still standing, although I collapsed into a chair, moments later.  Calvin pulled himself up into another chair, grinning like an idiot…and looking like one, too, with one of his front teeth gone.  

"You're right…that was fun," he stated, having a drink of ale that had been placed in front of him, bought by one of the patrons in the bar, who'd been entertained by the battle.  Werrid walked by, counting coins, and thanked me for making him a pile of money.  

"A good bar fight is just thing to relax a bit," I replied.  At that moment, I felt a bit a peace, and for a moment, I was reminded of the easy camaraderie I had had with Eirick, back on Ruathym…and though that though they were as far apart as dwarves and elves, Eirick and Calvin, in some ways, were a lot alike.  I guess I gained a little respect for Calvin after that, knowing that he was willing to go such lengths to try and fit in.

I was digging Calvin's tooth out of my knuckle, and flung it behind me, only to hear a familiar "ow!"  

Tobias sat down a moment later, his hair and clothing disheveled, with an irritated look on his face, as he was trying to brush the blood off his shirt.

He handed Calvin his tooth back, and muttered something about how I always managed to cover him in blood, of throw some body part at him.  Then he grinned, giving up on he new stain.

"Well, look's like our plan worked," he stated.

"Indeed," I agreed.  

"Not a bad idea for a couple of half-elves," Calvin agreed.  The reaction was instinctive…Tobias and I both lashed out, and punched the paladin.

"Nice…to see…everyone…agree..ing…a…gain," he mumbled, before passing out.  All in all, it was quite an interesting night.

The next weeks passed slowly, with us not making any progress on locating Severn within the city.  Our only hope was that he meant to go through the attack as planned, and we could get him then.

The dwarven councilor proved a cheerful fellow…gone a bit fat around the middle, but still a fairly formidable character…even more so considering that he was a politician. When he had us over for dinner, he said that he spoken with his fellow dwarven councilmen, and that they were, for the most part prepared for an attack.  He asked that we accompany him to the meting, so that we might be inside, and ready should, the attack come.  After all, he added, this Severn was our enemy as well, and we certainly deserved first crack at him. The food was good, and the drink was plentiful, and I have to admit, that the short councilor won my approval, in his willingness to believe us so readily, and in his great hospitality.  He also managed to charm Sera…although how he knew I had a little girl, I don't know.  When we got there, he exclaimed over her, claiming that she was the prettiest little thing.  Sera loves attention, and so, preened happily.  He completely won her over, with the present of a very pretty doll that he claimed one of his nephews had made.  It was very well made, and even had bluish hair, like Sera's when she was in her elven form.  All in all, it was a pleasant enough night.

We did speak briefly with the human councilor that Calvin had spoken with, as well, but he was less concerned, and less friendly.  

Things were pretty dull, for the most part, though.  We went out for another round of drinking, and so forth, on a few other occasions, but I still felt restless.  I was not used to be so still…having no work or anything to do.  I hate waiting.  I am starting got go crazy in the inn.  And it's still, bloody, snowing!  It's almost the middle of summer, and we're still ankle deep in snow.  I swear, there is something wholly unnatural about the oddity in the weather.

I did run across a priest of Tempus while in town.  Since Mirabar is so close to the north, there do seem to be an inordinate amount of northmen wandering about…many reminding me of the Ruathym.  The priest was an aging warrior, who still looked very fit.  I spoke with him about the two parts of the shattered sword I'd found.  He told that he had, indeed heard of the sword, and he knew of where I might find the third piece.  When he seemed satisfied that I was a decent enough warrior as well, and determined to find, and repair the broken blade, he told me that he would give me the information he knew, but at the cost of a "donation" to the church of Tempus.  I gave him the sword we'd taken from the body of Thendel, back in Llorkh.  It was a powerful blade, but carried a curse…it would infect the wielder with lycanthropy.  So I traded the sword to him for the information, disclosing that the sword was powerful, and carried a bit of a "problem," though.  He seemed to be willing enough to "take the chance."  He informed me that the last part of the sword was rumored to be in a fortress, far to the south of Waterdeep, near a place called Baldur's Gate.  The fortress was shaped like a giant gauntlet, he said, and was said to be inhabited by all sorts of animated objects.  It sounds interesting.  Perhaps, when this whole shadow thief/mercenary thing is done with, and I have a bit of time, I'll head down there.  It's not so much that I feel the need to repair the sword, as much as it is a challenge, and one that interests me.  I shall definitely have to think on this…

To occupy myself, I found a small magic store in town, and purchased a scroll with a flying spell on it, thinking it could be useful. After memorizing it, I headed out of town, with Sera, to test it out.  I figured it would give me a chance to test my spell out, and let Sera play for a bit, in her true form. 

About halfway out, to a small wooded area, I had the sneaking feeling that I was being followed, but could see no one.

After a few hours, when Sera seemed to be getting tired of the snow, and flying about, we headed back in, and I figured out just who was following us: Tobias.

"Why did you go out to the woods," he asked, as we ran into him, just outside of the city.

"Why were you following me?!" I shouted at him.  He shrugged.

"I wanted to see what you were up to, but then you disappeared into the woods, and I couldn't find you anywhere."

"Don't ever follow me again," I warned him, relieved that he'd not seen anything…particularly Sera in her true form.  That's all I needed.

I took her out to fly again a day or so later, only to hear footsteps behind me.  

"Tobias, if you are following me, I swear I'll cast a fireball at you," I threatened.  The footsteps stopped, and I heard the sound of them returned the way they'd come.  Danger averted.

It didn't matter though, for it was Sera, herself who let the dragon out of the bag, so to speak.  It was the day before Shieldmeet, and we'd, once again, run into Tobias on the way back to Mirabar.  He was chattering on about something, and I wasn't paying any attention, when suddenly a large pile of snow hit me on the chest.  Tobias was standing a few feet away, wiping his hands on his cloak.  Not thinking, I said,

"Sera…bite him!"  I did not think she would take the command so seriously…I suppose I should have known better.  She will take any opportunity to turn into a dragon.  And that is just what she did.  

She polymorphed back into her true form, ripping her clothing, and pounced on Tobias, and began to playfully chew on his arm.  Tobias' eyes widened dramatically, and I stood there, shocked, only able to think that now the entire party would know about Sera.

"I knew it!" Tobias crowed, trying to push Sera away, eyeing her sharp little teeth, nervously.

"Sera!" I shouted, and she looked back at me.  "Bad girl!  How many times have I said it?!  Never change in front of other people!!"  She seemed to think about it, looking directly up at my face.  Reacting to my anger, she burst into tears, and ran back to me, crying that she was "sowwy."  I sighed, and picked her up, as she bawled into my cloak, wrapping her tail around my waist, but I focused my attention on Tobias.

"I knew she wasn't an elf," he stated, as he got back to his feet.  

"But where did you get a…"

"Tobias," I warned.  "If you tell any of the others about her…if you say one word to anyone, I swear I'll make you the sorriest elf to walk the face of Faerun."

"Why don't you want the others to know?" he asked.

"I don't trust them," I replied, calmly.

"You don't trust me, either."

"I don't trust anyone, Tobias…not even myself.  Sera is mine…she's my daughter, even if she is a dragon.  I don't want the others to see her as a dragon, and think that she's a weapon, or try to take her away from me."

"No one would…" he began to say.

"I don't care.  Since I cannot take the knowledge from your mind, I'll have your word, on your life, that you'll keep this a secret."

"I promise," he vowed.  I had no choice but to believe him.

We spoke a bit more, on more mundane things, but I was still angry that he'd found out, so I soon took my leave.  I did mention to him, though, that if anything should happen to me, that the party was to take Sera to the elven church in Waterdeep…and that Elaith would be her guardian.  Tobias seemed not to like that statement at all, protesting that Elaith was not a fit guardian for Sera.  I shrugged and only told him that it was done.  Once again, he muttered on about trust, and my lack of it.  I ignored him, and took my leave, returning to the inn.  

Sera was not happy, in that I made her sit in the corner of the room for a while to think about what she had done.  Not only had she ruined her clothing, but she might've gotten hurt…had it been anyone but Tobias, they might have attacked her.  I hated to have to be so harsh, but it was necessary.  She's my responsibility…I cannot let anyone hurt her.  Each day that passes, she is more and more like a child to me, and I fear that I love her, as I would a daughter.  I cannot let her be harmed…and if I must put up with her tears and pouts over being punished to keep said harm from occurring, so be it.

Dawn came, and with it, the entire party began to ready themselves for the council meeting.  It would be starting around noon…presumably when all the councilors had managed to get their lazy carcasses out of bed.  We would enter with Hungir, and stand along side the other guards that would be there.  There were spells and plans to be prepared.

When all was set and we had our plan, we accompanied the dwarven councilor to the meeting hall.  It was a large round building, within three entrances…one to the front, and two on the sides.  The front had double doors, and led into the speaking hall.  It was a round rooms, with three levels of tiers, containing seats for the councilors. The councilors all began to file in.  Guards were all scattered about the walls and entrances of the room…dwarven and human.  

We decided, as a party, that only Tobias and Calvin would be kept visible.  The rest of us had invisibility spells cast on us, and took up our chosen places.  I was by the main door, with two others guards, a human and a dwarf.  Hank and Ranon were on the highest tier, in the back.  Not even the councilors or other guards knew they were there.  Hank was by one of the side entrances, ready with his bow.  Ranon was to keep an eye on the main councilor, the human Threskirk.  Calvin was by the other side entrance, while Tobias was left to wander about freely, as was Lita, though she did so invisibly..  We figured that, that way, we would have everything ready, should the attack proceed as it had been planned. 

Spell-wise, we all had potions ready, potions for extra strength and fortitude.  We'd all had a haste spell cast on us before going invisible, and it would last most of the day before the duration ended.  Ranon had readied spells to dispel effects, and to anchor that bastard, Severn, to the room, so that he could not just flit away again at the last moment.  This time, we meant to kill him.

The afternoon passed slowly, and I quickly made the decision that I wanted nothing to do with politics of any kind.  The topics discussed were dry and boring, hinging on numbers and percentages, and alliances and so on.  People and merchants from the town were escorted in to bring problems before the councilors, who voted to judge the outcome.  All in all, I was about ready to fall asleep, when the attack finally came.

We were ready for them to teleport in, or something like it, but instead, there was an explosion, and the front doors flew off their hinges, and into the room.  One of the doors clipped me in the shoulder with force enough to knock me off my feet.  By the time I'd gained a standing position, seconds later, a large number of mercenaries had already rushed into the room.  Then I noticed that the human guards, had all been slowly moving into position around the room…and many now had blades out, pointed at the councilors.  As it had been before, the mercenaries had attacked from within, as well as without…and we, fools all, had forgotten that and not prepared for such a problem.  The dwarven guards seemed bewildered, and were still on our side, however.  And we would need it.  I quietly cast a spell of fly, so that I might have better maneuverability, even as Severn finally appeared.  He strode into the room, accompanied by three monstrous creatures: large in size, with long claws and teeth, and ethereal wisps of darkness floating about them.  I'd never seen, nor heard of the like.

Severn walked down, to the center of the carpet, as though he'd been invited to speak.  He looked over at Calvin, and then Tobias.

"Have the rest of your party show themselves, or I will kill the councilors, now."

"You mean to kill them anyway, so why should we give up our advantage before the battle has even begun?" Calvin asked by way of a retort, his hand closing over the hilt of his longsword. 

"Why be foolish?  You are not part of this…I will allow you to leave without harm, but you must do so now, so that we might get on with our job," Severn stated. 

"And we cannot allow you do such an evil thing, mercenary." Calvin declared.

"Come now, Calvin Silverarm.  You and your friends are adventurers.  You go on quests for coin…this is no different. I am being paid to do a job, and you are attempting to stand in my way."

       "What are you are doing is killing innocent people, who do not deserve that fate," I hissed from behind him, even as I put the edge of my axe up to the back of his neck.  I had slowly moved closer while Calvin and Severn had been talking, silent, thanks to my flight spell.

       "Airk…I wondered where you were," Severn stated casually, as though I did not have his neck hostage. 

       "Look, you...I care nothing about a war between Luskan and Mirabar…if anything, I would welcome it, in the hopes that Mirabar would wipe that miserable city off the face of Toril," I stated…despite all the progress I have made in the past year, I still bear no love for the Ruathym's age old enemy, Luskan.

       "However, we cannot allow you to kill innocent people to bring it about."

       "Not all of the men here are so innocent," Severn claimed, still seeming more concerned with convincing us that he was in the right, than with his own hide.

       "Be that as it may, we will not allow their murders," I growled.  I did not want to parley with this bastard…I wanted to kill him.

       "Tell your men to step back from the councilors, or I'll take your head off," I threatened.

       "You must understand…I have a contract to fufill," Severn said.  "My contract is my word, and I cannot back away because your sense of right is insulted.  Believe me when I say that most of these men deserve death."  There was some cowering among the councilors at that, but I noticed that all the dwarves were still, waiting for an opportunity.

       "And we have a contract as well," Calvin replied.  "These men's lives are our contract…as a man who understands such things, you must understand, that we are honor bound to stand in your way and protect the council."  Severn sighed at that.

       "Such a pity…are you certain that none of you want a job?  I would be most happy to give you one."

       "We want nothing from you, save vengeance," I growled.  I noticed that the dark creatures were moving closer to me, trying to find me by the sound of my voice, I suppose.  But I was not deterred in the slightest.

       "Ah...yes, vengeance…for the attacks on your persons, no doubt.  Well, it had to be done, I'm afraid.  But remember that things are not always as they seem." Was his only response to that.

       "Call your men off!" I shouted, growing frustrated.  This was dragging out for far too long.  Once again Severn ignored the order.

       "Yes…things are not always as they seem…for example, it does seem as though I have been hired by Luskan to do this, doesn't it?  But what if it were not Luskan at all…but rather a traitor in your midst," Severn stated, casually, looking up the tiers to one councilor in particular.  I followed his eyes…as did everyone else in the room…it lead directly to councilor Threskirk …who was looking distinctly nervous.

       "I don't know what you're talking about," Threskirk said, his voice breaking a bit.  

       "Oh, but you do, councilor Threskirk," Severn countered.  "Why don't you tell everyone how you hired me to do this, and make it seem as though Luskan was behind it?"  Everyone looked to Threskirk, who was moving about shiftily.  

       "Whatever are you talking about, mercenary?" Threskirk tried once more, his bluff.  But we saw the truth in his eyes.

       "Councilor…what is going on?" Calvin demanded.  The man opened his mouth, to once more deny, what was becoming very evident by his actions, was the truth.

       "Ranon!" I called. "Stand behind the councilor, and let him know you're there."   A moment later, the councilor straightened up suddenly.  

       "Now, human…tell us the truth.  Are you behind this betrayal?" I demanded, others echoing the sentiment from various areas about the building.  

       Threskirk finally looked down to Severn.

       "Why are you doing this?  I hired you to kill them!" He shouted.  

       "Ranon!" I called again, meaning to tell the dwarf to restrain the traitor…but before I could get the words out, the councilor groaned in pain, blood blossoming from his shoulder, even as Ranon appeared, clutching the dagger that had done it.  It was one of the Talonian daggers that had been used in the attempts on our lives.  The councilor collapsed…not quite dead, but not well either.  He moaned about his eyes, and I assumed that Ranon had used the contagion effect enchanted into the blade.  Damn the dwarf for starting things before I was ready.  Once again, Severn seemed unconcerned.

       "Ah…my thanks good dwarf, for saving me the trouble of having to kill him later."  I gave Severn one more chance.

       "Call off your men, or you die!" I shouted.

       "No," was his only reply.  I drew back my axe, and attacked, swinging to sever his neck.  Unfortunately, he, too, was prepared for the fight, for he had some sort of deflection spell up.  My axe only glanced off his neck, leaving a thing line of blood, instead of severing his head from his shoulders, as I had planned.

       The battle began in earnest.

       Calvin rushed out to engage Severn, as arrows began peppering the mercenaries from above, as Hank appeared.  Ranon, moved quickly, going after the mercenaries in the tiers that were threatening the councilors.  Tobias began to sing, even as he drew forth the whip from his belt.  Dwarven soldiers and councilors erupted into battle, turning on the mercenaries, drawing forth hammers and axes that had been hidden.  I flew up, away from Severn, momentarily, and began to cast.  The fireball spell I had prepared earlier burned from my mind, as fire erupted from my hands, and landed in the midst of the largest concentration of enemies.  I managed to catch Severn in the flames, and avoided endangering any of my allies.  Then I flew back down, to aid Calvin in attacking Severn with actual weapons.

           The battle seemed to go on an inordinately long amount of time, but perhaps that is because I held off on raging.  I thank Corellon that the dwarves were there, and on our side, and prepared.  They kept the majority of the lesser soldiers occupied, leaving the party free to concentrate all attacks on Severn and the three creatures he'd brought with him.  Had it not been for the diggers, would have been overwhelmed, and most likely defeated.

       I would not have though Severn so difficult to beat as he proved to be, on first glance.  However, whatever deflection shield he had up made hurting him extremely difficult.  He had no such difficulties, and cut into Calvin and I, time and again with his great sword.  As our wounds began to mount, Ranon flew forth, to our aid, with healing spells.  I flew back for a moment, trying some more magic on him, and while it did seem to hurt him, it still wasn't doing enough.  Tobias was not faring well with the creature he was fighting, having already lost his whip and several daggers as well.  A few well-placed arrows by Hank, gave the bard time enough to drink down a healing potion a grab up a weapon from a body.  

       Calvin was not doing so well either.  Severn suddenly reached out, and laid a hand on Calvin's sword, and the blade dissolved as though immersed in acid.  I did not recognize the spell, and so assumed it was more of the "psionics" that Tobias claimed that Severn was using.

       Fortunately, the paladin was quick in grabbing a weapon from one of the dead mercenaries, killed by the dwarves.

       The battle raged on, and we concentrated all attacks on Severn, figuring, that if we could just kill him, the others would lose their liking for the fight.  He seemed to shrug off nearly every attack we dished out.  Finally, in a last ditch attempt, I called up the battle rage.

       I do not know if it was that Severn shield somehow went down, or that the strength brought on by the rage gave me enough extra power to accomplish my goal, but my first swing took off Severn's sword arm, causing the great sword to fall to floor along with it.  The back swing took his head off, which, naturally enough, flew back, hit Tobias' tunic, and landed on the singed carpet.

       Using the rest of the rage, I helped the dwarves and the others take out the few remaining mercenaries, and the two creatures that were still standing.  Less than a minute later, the last of the mercenaries were dead, with only the minimal loss of two dwarven guards on our side.  Nearly everyone was wounded, but a moment or two after the battle had ended, clerics of the various religions supported in Mirabar rushed in. Wounds were repaired by divine magic, leaving only a vague weariness that comes with the conclusion of the battle.  

       We were able to take what we wished from Severn's corpse, but the others we left to the dwarves, who'd taken them down.  As the chaos began to calm, Hungir suddenly raised his voice over all the others, and thanked us for our warning, and our aid in saving their lives.  The human councilors proved to be a vehement in their thanks only a moment later.  Threskirk was healed, and had managed to survive, but he was taken off by a pair of city guards, and Hungir claimed that he would be in jail for a long time.

       Hungir said that victory called for a celebration, and declared that his house was where it would be.  

       Several hours later, after washing up, and having a bit of a rest, the entire party went to Hungir's house.  We were welcomed in, and discovered that the victory celebration had already begun.  Councilors and their families, as well as the guards who'd aided in the defense, were all gathered, partaking of the abundant food and drink provided by Hungir.

       Later in the evening, the councilor called a halt to the revel, long enough to declare, that for aid in helping them stand against evil, we deserved to be rewarded.  The dwarves went first heaping rewards of gold, gems, and even magical items upon us.  The humans were not to be outdone, and gifted us likewise.  We received cards to something called the Bank  of Faerun, which was apparently some super-safe, inter-dimensional storage space for money and the like.  The reward was more than generous, and no one was disappointed.  The only who asked for anything beyond what we were given, was Ranon.  He apparently needed something called the "Breath of Moradin," which only the church of Moradin could gift, but had refused to so, earlier in the month.  He asked if Hungir might put in a good word with the priests to strengthen his case, I suppose.

       He seemed happy enough a day or so later, when he apparently got what he wanted.

       The party eventually wound down, and Hungir told us to come by in a few days, when we were ready to leave.  He claimed that they had a wayfarer's guild in town, and that the guild would be paid to send us anywhere we wished to go.

       All in all, it proved to be a most enjoyable evening.

       We returned to Waterdeep some three days later, arriving just outside of the tavern that the others had built.  I was almost sorry that was where we wound up, for just looking at the place was enough to make me angry again. I wondered if things were not about to return to the way they'd been before we left for Llorkh, seeing as the minute our feet hit the ground, the others immediately went into the inn, forgetting completely that I was standing there.  I was…irritated.  And the last thing I wanted to do was to enter that tavern that they seemed to care about so much.  So I grabbed Lashrael's reins, and climbed up.  Sera happily petted the beast on the head…I noticed that the horse seems to like her far more than he likes me…but I think that, at least, we have developed a bit of respect for each other's stubbornness.  Lita was still outside as well, so I offered her a ride into town, which she accepted, climbing up behind me, although I did offer to let her sit on my lap.  She laughed… miserable wench, her.  Of course as much as she enjoys teasing me, I have begun to see amusing in returning thee gesture…especially after I realized that she was just teasing, that is.

       The ride back to town was simple enough, with no shenanigans on the part of Lashrael.  Everything was pretty much just as I had left it, and in a way, that was comforting.  After dropping Lita off, I went around to say hello to all the pertinent people who should know that I was back.  They all seemed glad to see me, but all of them, save for Rosaleen, seemed…preoccupied…and all seemed to have worry in their eyes…even Elaith, for some reason.  I also noticed that Brian seemed rather angry about something…I hope that it is not me.  Perhaps I shall have to question them about it later.  

       After greeting everyone, Sera and I returned to the loft.  After being on the road, and out in the open for so long, the place seemed small, and cramped.  Even Sera noticed it, I think.  Since the reward we received in Mirabar was so generous, and since it seems like we will be in Waterdeep longer than I anticipated, perhaps I should look into finding an actual house to live in.  I can certainly afford it, at this point, with more than enough money to spare. It would give Sera more room to play in…and cause trouble in…and I would not have to worry so much about people barging and discovering what Sera really is.  Perhaps I shall look into it on the morrow.

       So I have bought a house.  As usual, I have seen neither hide nor hair of any of the rest of the party for nearly a ten-day now.  So, none of them know that I have moved.  Hacasian was very nice about it, saying that he could understand why I needed more space, giving a pointed look a Sera, who, at the time was dancing about to music that no one else could hear.  Sometimes, she seems very odd to me.  Hacasian was willing to refund all of the money I had paid towards the end of the year, but I only took half, telling him that the rest was his to keep, for being such a good landlord.  He replied that aside from the visitors showing up at weird hours, that I had been a good tenant as well.  He pointed the way to a place I might be interested in, not too far away, still in trade ward.  

       The house I bought belonged to an old, human couple, who had recently died of old age.  Their children were selling the place.  I looked around inside, and found that it was fairly large.  It had two actual bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom.  The main room, for dining, and sitting was wide and open, and would give Sera plenty of room to run around.  There was also a small loft, upstairs that the people had been using for storage.  Sera liked it immediately, and so I made them an offer.  They countered with a higher price, and we agreed on a price somewhere in between.  

       We moved in two days later, after the whole place had been cleaned.  I'd spent the two days buying some furniture, aided by Rosaleen and Lita, both of whom kept insisting that I needed things like beds and rugs and the like.  I remembered having such amenities on Evermeet, but have long grown used to going without them, and so I thought that such purchases were frivolous in the long run.  Both of them insisted that, for Sera's sake, if not my own, I had to have these things.  So I gave in.  Sera was delighted with her room in the loft.  My room was all right, but I can rest pretty much anywhere, so that isn't saying much.  Despite the things I bought, and the things I brought with me from the loft, the place still seemed empty.  


	5. Chapter 5

I went by the wizard's guild and purchased a scroll of arcane lock, and after learning it and putting it into my spell book, I promptly cast it on every entrance into or out of the house.

       Now during this time, as I said, I had no contact with the rest of the party, beyond Lita.  She kept hinting that we should go after the shadow thieves, and I agreed, only there was nothing I could do, until the rest of the party decided to act as well.  I told Lita that she might drop by their tavern…which, by the way, they are now adding an inn part to, and drop the hint to them.  

       In the end, it didn't matter that I had not seen the party, for I finally noticed something odd going on in Waterdeep, the very next day.

       The elves had returned.

       I say returned, for, apparently, many had lived in Waterdeep, but I had never seen them until now.  Many elves had returned.  So, I stopped by a bar, where I noticed a great deal of them drinking.  They welcomed me warmly, and I asked where it was they had all come from.

       They told me…in detail, then asked how it was I could not have heard of what had been happening.

       While I was off, on foolish adventurers, Evereska had been under siege, attacked by some horrible creatures from the great desert, called Phaerim.  While, I had been wandering about, like a fool, the last elven refuge on the mainland had been attacked by great evil…and once again, I had not been there to lend aid.

       I was, needless to say, very…very angry.  And I figured that there had to be at least one person in the party who had known about it.  And in my anger, I rode out to the tavern, with the determination to beat the miserable, green-haired bard black and blue.

       Tobias seemed very shocked when I stormed into their little tavern, grabbed him by the throat, and hurled him against the wall, screaming that he should have told me, and that he'd had no right to keep such information from me.

       He gained his feet, and moved to hide behind the bar, bewildered patrons staring at the scene, even as Calvin stood up, from where he'd been sitting, demanding to know what I was about.

       To placate the paladin, I explained what had happened, about the attack.  All the while, though, I watched Tobias.  Now, I know that bards are good at feigning their reactions, but to me, Tobias seemed honestly shocked.  Almost as though he hadn't known…which was exactly what he claimed.

       "Do you think," he began, in a rising voice, "that I care so little for our people that I would not have gone to such a battle myself?!  I swear, by Hanali, I did not know!  I may not be the bravest of people, but I would have gone to Evereska's aid had I known."  And then I heard a quietly muttered comment from Calvin…I almost missed it.

       "So," he said. "It is over, then."  I spun on him in an instant.

       "You knew?" I breathed, dangerously.  

       "Of course he knew," Tobias stated suddenly.  "He worked with the military here…and they would have known."

       "How dare you hold this information from me?" I demanded.

       "It did not seem important…besides, we were already involved in a quest…one that demanded our full attention while we on it.  I could not have either of you distracted."

       "Did not think it was important?!  The last elven refuge on Faerun is attacked by Phaerim, and you did not think it was important?!" I screamed.

       "And what would you have done?  Rushed off…to your death, no doubt.  The elves were fully capable.  Your aid would not have turned the tide of the battle…which was won by the elves.

       "You know nothing!  You are a paladin!  Have you no sense of honor!  As a noble, I was honor bound to be there, and I was not!  I shall have to tell that to my queen when the time comes.  Tell her that though I am capable of battle and magic, both, I was not there to defend Evermeet, nor was I there to defend Evereska!  Damn you, Calvin!"  I raged at him.  He seemed to be thinking about things, even as Tobias took a turn ranting at the human.  I felt a bit bad at that moment, for thinking so ill of Tobias.  Finally Calvin spoke again.

       "Perhaps I was wrong in keeping the information to myself, but what would you have me do?  What do you want done about it?"

       "I would like to beat you bloody," I stated, quietly.  Then I began to think about it more.  And I realized that I could not blame Calvin.  Humans do not think of things in the way that the people do.  I can be angry at him, but I cannot fault him for his ignorance.

       "But I will not," I finally, added.  "After all…you are a human…a mere child compared to the people.  You didn't know any better, I suppose.  But there are others that did…and it is them, I must now speak with," I growled, the last.  Calvin almost seemed bewildered by the abrupt turn about in my behavior.  But, I think that I have ever confused the members of the party.

       So I returned to Waterdeep, hardly noting that Calvin and Tobias were still following me.  I guess they wanted to see this out to its conclusion…or perhaps they did not want me to kill anyone.  Not that I meant to, that is.  Strangely, I felt calm…tense, but calm.  I only wanted to ask.

       I went first to Elaith.  After a moment, the man at his bar allowed me back to speak with him.  I asked the question bluntly,

       "Why did you not tell me of the attack on Evereska?"  He did not seem at all surprised by my question.  

       "Why don't you ask that question of Celedor," was his reply.  I took a deep breath to calm the anger that rose sharply for a moment.

       "Celedor told you not to tell me?" I asked.  

       " Indeed, though in the long run, I do not think I would have told you anyhow."

       "And why is that…Elaith?" I bit out his name, showing little respect.

       "Because you would have run off blindly to help, and died for the attempt." 

       "I see," was my only answer, as I turned, and left the tavern.

       Celedor's answers to my questions were very similar.  He did not think I was ready for such a battle, listing as reasons, my youth, my inexperience, and my mental instabilities.  

       "You are a child, Keledrial," he stated, in that voice he always used with me…the one where he tries to make everything sound so reasonable.

       " This was a battle for adults…you were not ready to deal with it."

       "Was I not?  So instead, rather than helping my people, this child has been chasing after mercenaries with whom I was, apparently better equipped with to "deal with."  How many was it that I killed, Tobias?" I asked the other elf, hardly noting that his eyes were wide with surprise…after all, Celedor had listed all my problems, out loud, in front of the others…not that I care any more.

       "Indeed, how many did I behead…with out taking a scratch?" I continued. Gritting my teeth.

       "I lost count," Tobias murmured.

       "But such killing, in the name of protecting humans, is certainly more…appropriate for a **child** of the people, who is unready for more fearsome foes, is that what you mean, Celedor?"  I had not spoken with the priest yet, on what had happened the months that I was away from Waterdeep, so he was not prepared for my descriptions.  I do not know how I must have looked to him at that moment, but in his eyes, I could almost see him reassessing his judgment.  I watched, as he realized his mistake.  After a moment, he spoke again.

       "I am sorry, Keledrial…I should have told you about what was happening.  I thought that I was doing what was best, though.  I forget that you have had to grow up faster than you should have.  And I forget that, in many ways, you are not a child."  I could think of nothing to say.  I was still terribly angry, and so upset.  It seems that everyone I dare to put my trust in, betrays me in some way.  Even my parents, for in the end, didn't they all die, and leave me to survive, alone in the world?  

Despite everything, though, I felt my anger drain from me.  It was too late, anyhow.  The attack was over.  There was nothing I could do about it.  Suddenly weary, and heart sore from all that had happened, I sighed.

       "I shall pray to Corellon for the strength to let go of my anger, and hope that he forgives me, for failing him, yet again," I said to Celedor.  With that, I walked away, leading, Lashrael by his reins.  I did not trust my emotions to stay there any longer.  I know that Celedor wished to speak more with me, but I just could not.

       So I returned home.  I pleaded with Lita to watch Sera for the night, as I was not fit company for anyone, not even my daughter.  

       It took me a long time to calm, and to relax.  It took ever longer for me to be able to write about what had happened.  The truth finally comes out.  It seems that I have only two faces that others see…to the elves I am a child, not yet to be trusted with any task of any importance.  And to everyone else…I am a monster…a dangerous, frightening being that none of them dare trust.  I cannot live like this any longer, I fear.  I do not belong here, any more than I belonged in Ruathym.  I think I will go home…soon.  I now know that the way is open to me, for many of the elves returned were only stopping in Waterdeep, on their way back to Evermeet.  The boats are sailing once more.  

       I have several things to do before I go, though.  Things I must finish, and put into order.  The first of which, will be to finish what we have started with the shadow thieves.  Tomorrow, whether they like or not, the party will roused, and we will return to Skullport to finish off the shadow thieves' guild there.  When that is done, I go my own way from the others.  

       I did not have to rouse the party after all, for the very next day, after I finished my work at the forge, Calvin was waiting for me outside.  

       "Are you ready to go after the shadow thieves?" he asked.  I nodded.  

       "I only need get my things ready, and we can go tonight."

       "Good.  I will get the others," the paladin stated.

       "Bring them to the Dancing Blade.  Lita and I will be waiting there," was my reply, as I left.  After all, there was no way that I was going all the way out to their stupid tavern, only to have to return to Waterdeep, so that we might again use the portal into undermountain.

       I did well at covering my feelings that night, acting once more the fool.  I flirted with Rosaleen, and Lita, once the others arrived, and there seemed to be nothing of the anger that Tobias and Calvin had seen only the day before.  Sera was sleeping in her pocket, with Sanhandrian.

       When the others got there, it was with a new person, they arrived.  This person was a bit odd looking, with pale, almost blueish skin, white hair, and blue eyes.  At first glance, she might have been a moon elf, but the coloring was slightly off, and her ears were rounded.  After studying the being for several minutes, and still unsure of the gender, I bluntly asked the question,

       "Are you a girl, or a boy?"  The person replied that she was female, and that her name was Jasmal, and came from the same southern part of the continent that Lita did.

       She was, apparently, a friend of Lita's, and Lita had asked her to aid us in breaking into the guild house…another thief-type I suppose.  I didn't care…so long as we got in, and finished this.

       We left shortly after dusk, and arrived at the Yawning Portal tavern.  After walking through, we arrived at roughly the same area we'd come through before.  

       The trip to Skullport wasn't nearly as eventful as the last time.  The only monsters we saw was a small group of kobolds that ran away before we could even draw our weapons.  At one point, though, we all got the sensation that we were being watched, but could find no one.  Out of curiosity, and since there was no danger at the moment, I allowed Sera out of the pocket.  Picking her up, I asked her if she could see anyone, knowing that her eyesight, as a dragon was far superior to my own.  After a moment, she pointed up, to the ceiling of the cavern we were in, and said that a "scawy man," was up there.  None of us saw anything, but she insisted, stating that the man had lots of hair on his face, and robes.  Tobias seemed to think about the description for a moment, then mentioned that it might be someone by the name of Halaster…a mad mage who believed he ruled undermountain, that was watching us.  We left the area quickly.

       As we made our way into Skullport, Lita mentioned that we would probably need a bit more help with what we meant to do.  She claimed that she knew some folk who would most likely be willing.  After a bit of arguing, and so forth, everyone agreed to try Lita's way first.  

       We spent the night in the same cave we had last time, which was blessedly free from driders this time.  We entered into Skullport, and as before the sickening evil of the place was nearly overwhelming.  Lita lead us a winding route through the city, and then out of it…to a place she called the promenade.   The statue out front of the place was my first clue that I would not like these people.  It was a large, ebony statue of a dancing drow woman.  Demanding to know just who this help was, Lita explained that the followers of Eilistraee were, for the most part, dark elves.  Calvin mentioned that the followers were known to work for the side of good.

       Drow.  Of course.  And why shouldn't we go to the bloody drow for help? I argued. I shouted. I tried to explain to them just exactly what the drow were, no matter whom they claimed to follow.  I told them all about the reason that the drow were dark.  I warned them that they were letting down their guards, only to accept a dagger in the back.  They didn't listen…none of them…not even Tobias.  In fact, my fellow elf argued that I was being foolish, and prejudiced. He added that Eilistraee was a good goddess, and the daughter of Corellon…why would she allow evil to worship her?  I was out voiced, and overruled.  They were all determined to set themselves up for betrayal.  Well, they could play nice with the drow all they wanted, but I certainly did not let my guard down.

       We went into the temple…at least I think it was a temple, and I was a bit surprised to see so many other races about. Seated at tables, eating food, and talking, were halflings and humans, dwarves, and gnomes, and even an actual elf or two.  And there were drow, of course.  Literally dozens of them were wandering about.  The sight of them had me clenching the haft of my axe, nervously, trying to suppress my instinctive rage at the dight of the dark-hearted bastards. 

       We were quickly approached by a woman wearing the symbol of Eilistraee, or at least I assumed it was.  She spoke briefly with us, and then went off to fetch someone else, who would be able to aid us with the help we were requesting.  

       I was being very careful to keep my back to the wall, and trying to keep an eye on all of the black-skinned demons wandering about, so when another two priestesses approached a short time later, I missed their names.  I don't really feel like going into detail over what was said, only that I did try my best to let the drow know that I did not like the idea that we were here, and furthermore, I did not like any of them.  One them asked me if I was from Evermeet, and nodded when I snapped that of course I was, as though she suspected it all along.  The others all tried to apologize for my behavior, seeming to actually care what the dark elves thought.  I told them not to bother, for I meant what I said.

       All the same, though, I have to admit, I did feel a bit foolish, especially seeing as the drow were acting so calm and unflappable, and I was being rude, and trying to bait them into a fight.  I know the story about Eilistraee being Corellon's daughter, but honestly, if she truly was such a good goddess, and her followers so changed from the rest of the drow, why did they hide?  Why wasn't Eilistraee still part of the Seldarine?  It doesn't add to me, so I don't care what the story, I won't trust a drow.

       After the two women, one with long, silver hair, agreed to give us the help we needed, in the form of a distraction to draw most of the shadow thieves' attention, we were invited to stay at the temple, rest a bit, and have something to eat.  I refused of course, but once again all the others decided to stay, having put their trust into the drow for some reason.  Fine…they'll trust a group of bloody drow, but not me.  I am done with their lack of common sense and foolishness when we finish down here!

       After finding a seat in a corner, up against a wall, I relaxed a bit.  Food was brought to us, and I sneered something about how it was probably poisoned.  The others ignored me, for the most part, and started eating their own food.  Lita grabbed the bowl away from me, and took a bite of the porridge-like substance.  I watched her for a good few minutes, and she showed no signs of ill effects.  She mentioned that the cook was halfling, and she was certain that a halfling had no reason to poison me.  Though it pained me to do so, I was hungry, and Sera came out of the pocket at that moment, crying that she hungry, as well.  

       Though it looked unappetizing, the food wasn't actually too awful…kind of like berry-flavored mush.  Sera liked it well enough, and a few bites was all it took to fill me up.

       We rested for a few hours, preparing spells, and potions, and a plan to get in.

       I don't know what time we left to go about our business, but we arrived at the shadow thieves' guild without incident.  We were all invisible, the effect achieved by both spells and potions.  Lita and her friend, Jasmal found a hidden entrance into the building, that we had not noticed the last time we'd been down here.  As we entered the building, we heard a loud commotion out front, and assumed the people the drow had working for them had begun their distraction.

       Once again, I quickly lost track of where we were going in the maze of corridors that comprised the guild house.  Lita and Jasmal were being very careful to disarm the dozens of traps we encountered on our way in. They only missed one, a pit trap, we managed to avoid, anyhow. We walked past several shadow thieves, as well as a pair of ½ orcish guards, who seemed to be guarding a door.  Then, we came upon a familiar door.  This time, we entered without knocking.

       Handrax looked up, but this time, we gave him no time to talk.  We attacked immediately.  My first hit cleaved through his head, but a moment later, the body dissolved, as though it were made of shadows.  Over by the desk, we saw the real Handrax.  He grinned at us, and pulled out an arcane looking dagger, and muttered a word.  A strange cloud of purplish smoke came from the dagger, and surrounded Handrax.  We all attacked, firing and slicing into the smoke.  Several times, bolts flew from the smoke, striking members of the party.  One hit me in the shoulder, and I felt the disgusting sensation, of shadow magic about it.  I yanked it from my shoulder quickly, hoping that there had not been any type of poison on in, and continued the attack.  I felt my axe connect several times, and from behind me, the others shot arrows and cast spells.  A few of the arrows did not hit the wall behind the desk, so I had to assume that they had hit Handrax instead.  I struck again, and this time I must have hit Handrax's dagger arm, for the dagger went flying into a corner of the room, and the smoke dissipated.  Suddenly, Lita was there, and before I had a chance to attack again, she had wrapped that horrible, barbed, garrote around Handrax's throat, and began to pull on it.  She yelled for the rest of us to stop our attacks, and since it seemed she had things well in hand, we did so.  Lita whispered something into Handrax's ear, and I don't think anyone else heard her…but I did.

       "Where is she?" Lita had demanded.

       "Why should I tell you?" Handrax sneered.  I grabbed a handful of Handrax's hair, and twisted his face around to me.  I wasn't certain what it was Lita was looking for, but I would help out, just to get this over with.

       "Oh, I think you should.  Lita will kill you quickly, if you do…I'll kill you slow, if you don't," I growled.  I guess he believed me.  He offered to lead the way. I informed him, that any treachery on his part would result in more pain than I think he was willing to take.

       He led us back to the door with the two½ orcs.  They both raised their weapons, but lowered them quickly when they saw whom we had as our hostage.  We were admitted into the room, and Lita handed me the garrote, as she took a set of keys from one of the guards.

       The room was dark, lit only by a few wall sconces.  Inside, the room was small, and there were chains on the wall.  The chains were attached to shackles, and the shackles were fitted around the wrists of a small, human, girl, no more than five or six years of age.  The little girl had dark hair, and wide green eyes.  She was dirty, and thin, as though she'd not eaten well in a while.  She looked up as we walked in, and as soon as she saw Lita, she burst into tears, and cried,

       "Mommy!"  I looked over to Lita, surprised.  She hadn't mentioned a word about this.  Lita ran over, and unlocked the shackles, kicking the chains aside, as she hugged the child.  A moment later, she returned to the rest of us, the child quieted, for the most part.

       "Keeping secrets, Lita?" I asked, softly.  

       "And you don't?" Was her only reply.  I had a sneaking suspicion there was more to what was going on here than met the eye, but explanations would have to wait until later.  I quickly offered to allow Lita's daughter to share the pocket with Sera.  It would be a tight fit for a while, but she would be safer with Sera, than she would be otherwise.  Lita seemed reluctant to release the little girl, but seem to agree with the logic.  I showed the girl how to climb into the pocket.  She seemed a bit afraid, and looked at Lita, with a questioning gaze.  Lita assured her that it was all right, and I told Sera to be nice, as the little girl vanished into the darkness.  

       With her daughter safe, Lita turned her attention back to Handrax.

       "You bastard," she hissed, grabbing the garrote back from me.  " I let her have it, and took a step back.

       "Bloodscalp sends his greetings.  You should not have strayed…and you never should have taken my daughter!" She stated, and then yanked on the garrote with all her strength.  The wire was so sharp, her anger so great as to make her stronger in that moment, that she all but decapitated Handrax, with only the bones of his neck keeping it attached.  The two half-orcs immediately attacked, but the others had been ready for such an event, and the guards died within seconds.

       We took anything that looked worthwhile from Handrax's body.  I was given a strange look as I finished removing Handrax's head, and took it with us.

       We returned to the office, and rifled through Handrax's desk, looking for anything important.  We did find a few gems, and some encoded papers, that seemed important, so we took that with.  Lita then stated that we should, leave, and quickly, before the murder was found out, and we had more shadow thieves than we cared to deal with attacking us.  Ranon asked why we were running, if we were supposed to be killing all of the thieves.  Lita replied that we didn't have to kill any of them, that killing Handrax was enough to break the guild here.  The thieves would scatter, with their leader gone.  Then she handed me a scroll, and said to cast it.  I scanned the contents, and saw that it was a scroll of invisibility that would cover a ten-foot radius.  I grumbled about how I would have rather scribed it into my spell book, but cast it anyhow.  On the way out, I grabbed some parchment, ink, and large poker from a fireplace.

       Once we made it back outside, I paused for a moment in front of the guild, and set things up.   The poker went into the ground.  Handrax's head went onto the end of the poker.  I scribbled out a message in common, and attached I just below the head, then stepped back.  The item appeared, as the invisibility field no longed covered it.  The note read a warning to the shadow thieves, telling them to leave Waterdeep or suffer their leader's fate.  I heard Lita laugh, and say that without Handrax's guidance the guild would fall apart, but that my little "message" would certainly hasten things along.

       We returned to the followers of Eilistraee…the others' decision, not mine.  We informed them of the success of our plan, and the others thanked the drow for their help.  Can you imagine such as thing as thanking a dark elf?!  And yet, for all that…I must admit that the dark elves had not betrayed us, attacked us, or done anything untoward to us…even me…and I was far from civil.  It seems odd to me…I wonder what sort of game they were playing…it is too difficult to believe that they could all actually be good…isn't it?

       As we entered the temple, going towards the tables once again, Tobias suddenly looked at Lita, and said,

       "Bloodscalp…I know that name.  Renal Bloodscalp…he's the leader of the shadow thieves in Amn.  How would you know that, Lita?"  Lita shrugged.

       "I used to work for him…and the shadow thieves."  Now at that point, I am certain that I must have looked ready to kill.  All I could think was that Lita worked for the shadow thieves all along…that she had betrayed us, and played me for a fool…that I had dared to trust her with my Sera.  She seemed to sense this anger that rose instantly in me, like a killing wave, and quickly explained herself.

       She had been young and foolish when she'd joined the shadow thieves, and had wanted to get out of the organization for years.  When all this had begun, Handrax had asked for Lita's help.  He had broken away from the main part of the shadow thieves, and turned against the Bloodscalp.  Lita would have no part in Handrax's treachery, and refused him.  She had, instead, made a deal with Bloodscalp…she would get rid of Handrax, and be released from the guild without repercussion…but before she got a chance, Handrax had kidnapped Lita's daughter, Allianna.  That was when Lita had "found" us.  Her meeting with me, and being friends with Rosaleen was no accident…but planned.   She had met and befriended Rosaleen for the sole purpose of making contact with me, and through me, the rest of the party.  It was why she had gone along with us, and agreed to help…and why she had begun to get so upset in our delay to go after the shadow thieves…they had her child.

       With Handrax dead, she explained, she no longer had any bonds left with the shadow thieves, and Amn.  She now meant only to find a place to live, in peace, with Allianna.  

       My anger drained away slowly, as I realized that we had not been betrayed.  Lita had not turned against us…only made a foolish choice in her life, and done what she had to, to protect her daughter.

       That I could understand.  Certainly, I, who have made the same mistakes, if not worse ones, could not condemn her for such a thing.  And I know that I would do anything to protect Sera, and rescue her, if she had been taken.  The only thing that bothered me is that Lita had not told us any of this before hand.  When I stated that though, she only smiled, and said,

       "You have your secrets, Keledrial Nightstar, and I have mine."

       As soon as we were back by the tables, and seemingly safe, I opened the pocket in my cloak, and helped Sera and Lita's daughter out.  

       Though Allianna is considerably older than Sera, the two girls were chatting at each other like they were best friends…although Allianna speech was far more refined, and understandable, than Sera's baby-ish babble.  They brought out with them, a small, gray kitten…apparently another creature that had appeared in the pocket.  Both girls became quite irate when Hank came over, and "tried to take the kitty away."  In truth, I think Hank just wanted to examine it, him being so interested in animals and all that…but the girls did not seem to care.

       Since we would be staying in Skullport for at least another "night," Lita asked the drow clerics for a room, and some hot bath water, gesturing at her daughter…who was, I admit, quite filthy.  Sera wasn't much better, having become dirty by association, I suppose.  Lita took both girls off, after I gave her two of Sera's dresses…one for Sera, and one for Allianna. The rest of the party gave me odd looks, upon seeing me pull dresses out of my backpack, but a good "death-glare" kept them quiet.

       A short time later, Lita emerged with the children, both freshly scrubbed, and well behaved, carrying the "kitty," who had also been bathed, and did not seem so very happy.

       Cleaned of the grime, I could see the definite resemblance between Lita and her daughter…all except for the girl's bright, green eyes.  Imagining that they had come from the father, I asked Lita about her husband, and where he was.  She replied that she had no husband, and would not elaborate further on the man.   I let it go, not wishing to pry.

       We returned to the surface, shortly after waking.  The drow of Eilistraee had led us to a portal, which brought us back to Waterdeep, near the city park.  Once again, we all parted ways.  Tobias took with him the encoded papers, claiming he would take them to a sage to have them checked over.  I returned home.  It had only been three days since we'd left…and yet it seemed much longer.

       I started doing a lot of thinking…about a lot of different things…and it all boiled down to the same conclusion: I was done here.

       I had adventured, doing what good I could…although how much I actually did, is dubious in the long run.  I had found my vengeance against those who'd attacked me.  It had been, in truth, my last real goal here, besides finding my way back to Evermeet.

       The way home is found…and boats have already begun to depart for the isle of the people, on a weekly basis, as elves began to return from the battle for Evereska.  I can go home now…and after weighing everything carefully, I can find no reason good enough to stay.  In fact, there are far more pressing reasons to go…the most important being Sera.

       I keep thinking about Lita's little girl…in chains, all because of an enemy her mother had made.  With my personality what it is, I know I have, and would make even more, potentially more-dangerous foes than Handrax.  It was no secret that I claimed Sera as my daughter…and in her elven form…if you did not know my history, any one would think that she is.  I watch her sleep, for she still sleeps a great deal, and I see how small, and fragile, and how very vulnerable she truly is.  I am all she has to protect her…she would be used as the greatest of all possible weapons against me, for I love her.  I know why Elaith kept his daughter hidden away…it had be for the same reason.  I have to stop being selfish…it is wrong of me to drag Sera about, and into dangerous situations. I cannot justify the risk to her any longer.  

       The safest place for her would be Evermeet.  No one there would fear her or hurt her because she is a dragon…indeed; she would be revered, for silver dragons are well-loved by the people.

       For Sera's sake I must return, but I must be truthful…I must return for my own sake as well.

       I feel that I have gotten much better from my original deterioration…Celedor has helped me greatly.  But I can still feel Airk in me…still here him whispering, sometimes.   It scares me, and I think that being here…still in a society of humans is not helping. Perhaps if I go home, I will get better, quicker.  After all, there are no humans on Evermeet…and there never will be…well except for the ones who attacked Evermeet…and that hardly counts since they were not invited.

       Besides…I am not…needed, I think…nor am I wanted, by the rest of the party.  Despite the brief time in Mirabar, I am treated more and more like a stranger than a friend.  I do not know if they are shunning my presence, or simply do not care enough to seek it out, but I cannot tolerate it much longer.  

       I always thought that comrades-in-arms should at least be friendly to each other, if not friends.  I had hoped at least one of them would lose their fear of me…would be able to forgive me, but it is not be.  I think I left my last true friend behind in Ruathym…although, despite her hiding things, Lita has proved to be friendly enough…but she is a woman…and it is easier for her to forgive, because she has experienced the like, and it is in a woman's nature.  I feel I can trust her…freely, and not cautiously, as I must with Tobias and Rosaleen…Tobias I must trust to keep his word, for I have no choice…Rosaleen I trust with Sera's secret, but not with my own, for I am certain of her rejection should she ever know all that I have done.  The others, try as I might, I can summon nothing for, save a grudging respect for their skills.  Perhaps a bit of camaraderie as well, for each, in their own way tried once or twice…but not nearly enough.  

       None of them hold reason enough for me to stay, though.  Not even Rosaleen, whom I am fond of, or Lita, who I almost feel I could fully trust.

       There is my debt to Elaith, yes, but that can be called in any time, as well he knows…after all, he is not so very old, and neither am I…and the debt will be repaid, be it a day or a decade or a hundred decades from now.  

       My work is not even a hint of a reason, for though I enjoy working at the forge, I can do the same back home.  Brian can easily replace me, for though my work is fine, there are others just as good…although perhaps not with so great a work ethic as myself.

       Even if the papers say something more important…about others involved...well, it is my conclusion that I can be easily replaced.  There are wizards aplenty about, and even more warriors.  I am not so very unique…and I think the others might welcome a new party member…one they do not have to fear or despise.  Aye, they will be happier if I go, I think.

       I did try to make my way in this world of men, but I cannot.  I do not fit in…I never will.  I am tired of those who should be my friends showing me only their fear and loathing.  I do not belong here.  I am not even trusted by my own to make decisions for myself.   Perhaps Celedor was right in his belief all along…I am a child.  A spoiled, temperamental child, and I cannot yet be trusted.  I would have charged off blindly to Evereska…and probably died for my lack of judgment.  Celedor was right…and now I must apologize to him for my anger towards him.  

       I now know why elven children do not leave home until their first century has passed…this human world…it is too much to deal with so quickly.  I have become so much like them…always in a hurry.  I changed myself to better fit in with them, and look at me now: friendless, feared, mistrusted, and alone… I have no one save for my familiar, a temperamental horse, and a small dragon who thinks that "Kele" is the word for "father."   

       So my mind is made up, and I have made my choice.  I will return to Evermeet as soon as possible…but there is one more thing I must do first.

       I must try to find her and make whatever amends I can. Her…the girl I forced against her will, some seven or eight years past.  

       I have tried so hard to try to bring myself back to Corellon's good graces, but I feel this one last thing I must do before my god would even consider forgiving me.  I have to try to find her and apologize.  It can not be so hard to find her…I have a general idea of where the village is…south of Luskan, but north of Waterdeep…right on the sea, in a natural cove.  They had been farming, and fishing folk…the attack would be remembered.  I could find my way there in a week or two, and be on my way back to Evermeet just after that.  I shall begin…soon.

       To begin the last step of my journey home, I cut myself off from the party.  I began to work strange hours again, while I was preparing for my trip north…hopefully the last I would be taking for a long time.  I left before they expect my shift to be over, and so I saw none of them. 

       I asked about, and learned of three different villages to the north that all fit my description of the town I was looking for.  Directions were given to me, and everything was set by the end of the week.

       I stopped by to apologize to Celedor, and to tell him he had been right all along.  He seemed to want to go into the topic more, but stopped when I refused to go on about it.  I told him what I meant to do.  He told me that if that was what I felt I needed to do to gain Corellon's favor again, than I had to do it.  

       I did not take Sera with me, though it nearly broke what little heart I have left to leave her behind.  I had never been away from her for more than a few hours since the day she'd hatched.  She cried and wailed when I tried to explain to her that I had to go away.  I think she thought I meant forever.  

       I had told Lita a few details of where I was going and what I meant to do…then I pleaded with her to watch Sera while I was gone.  Lita could be trusted, I felt, at least with Sera.  I explained the pertinent facts to the humans woman, who, strangely enough, did not seem overly surprised to learn that Sera was a dragon.  I wondered if Sera had let it slip to Lita at some point…or if Lita, like Tobias, had always suspected something was not quite right.

       Fortunately, once I had Lita and Allianna come to the house, Sera began to calm.  After all, I had left her with Lita before and always come back.  Besides, with Allianna, and the "kitty" there, Sera was kept plenty occupied.  I gave Lita final instructions, and made her vow to keep my Sera safe no matter what.  Lita swore to Tymora and I left, feeling horrible, as I rode out of the city.  I hated leaving Sera…hated the idea that she would cry, when she awoke tomorrow, only to find that I was still gone.  I had left Sanhandrian with her, to make the separation less painful, but I doubt he will be much comfort.  

       I rode hard to the north, keeping to the main trade road, and avoiding trouble.  I wanted to go, and return as swiftly as possible.  As much as I want to try to redeem myself, and set to rest some measure of my horrible guilt, Sera needs me…and I will not fail my daughter.  I must return quickly.

       It took me a little over a week to find the town.   The people there were, needless to say, wary.  However, I managed to get them to answer my questions.  Yes, there had been a girl matching my description who'd lived there, but she'd left the town several months after the raid on the village.  They told me she'd gone north, to Neverwinter.  She'd not been seen by any of the villagers since.

       Her name was Penelope Rowen.  

       From what little I manage to learn, she left the village shortly after the attack, headed towards Neverwinter, of all places.  No one had seen her since.  

       So I continued nothward, pressing my pace hard, for I wished to return to Waterdeep with all possible haste.  The city was just as it had been when last I had been there, and I wondered, if, perhaps, I might have passed the girl on the streets, and never even have noticed her.

       It took me two days to track her down, and a nother to work up the courage to go where I would find her.  She was known to work at a small clothing, and embroidery store.  I entered the store cautiously, looking about, feeling as though I might be ambushed.  There was clothing, and cloth all over, but the only person, was a plump, gray-haired human woman, stiching something behind a counter.  She looked up as I entered, and smiled.

       "Can I help you?" she asked.  It took a moment for me to reply.

       "I am looking for a woman called Penelope.  I was told she works here."  The woman nodded.  

       "Of course.  I'll go get her," she rose from the chair, and pulled aside a curtain, disappearing into a back room.  A moment later, she remerged, this time with a woman who was hauntingly familiar.  

       She had changed from when I'd last seen her…her face was no longer so youthful…but as soon as she looked up, I saw her eyes fill with terror, the same terror that I seen that day…and I knew that I should not have come.

       She began to shriek and cry.  I got the feeling that she felt I was here as part of a raiding group, and I quickly tried to assure her that I meant no harm, holding my arms out to show her that I had no weapons.  The older woman asked me to leave, but I could not.  Not yet.  I pleaded with the woman to calm down, that I meant her no harm…and she seemed to try to do just that.  Finally, with her eyes still wet with tears, she drew a shuddering breathe, and spoke clearly.

       "Why are you here?"  And I answered truthfully.

       "I came to apologize…and seeking forgiveness…nothing more.  I must tell you, once more, that I am more sorry that you can ever know for what you suffered at my hands."

       "You ask for forgiveness?!" she asked in a shrill, shaking voice.  "How can you even ask that?!  I was trying to forget it all…and you come here, and it is like it just happened! "

       "I am sorry for that as well.  I know that I do not deserve forgiveness…but I ask it, in the hopes that you might give it anyhow."

       "You knew what you were doing that day," she cried.  "It was no accident!  You say you are sorry, but am sorrier that your…people ever came to my village," she hurled the needles at me.

       "I did it to survive, as you suffered it to survive," I stated, as the needles bounced off my chest.  "I will say one last time that I am sorry, for I truly am.  I did not realize how much my coming here would harm you.  Perhaps someday you will find it in your heart to forgive me.  And know that you are forever safe from me, for I have left those I accompanied that day, and soon will leave this land behind for good.  I hope that you shall succeed in your goal to forget me."

       "Just go…please…" she sobbed.  I could not bear to see her suffer any longer, and I accepted that it was impossible for her to forgive so foul an act.  I left, accepting that the guilt of my misdeed would be mine to bear for all time.  I heard her burst into tears behind me.  

       On my way out, I bumped into a human man, carrying an infant.  He apologized, but broke off mid-sentence, when he heard the crying from within the store.  He ran in, calling out to Penelope…her husband, I had to assume.  I hope that he will not try to seek me out, for I could not harm him, even though I am certain he would seek to harm me.  After all, I would do the same, if the woman I loved was reduced to tears by the sight of the one who had tormented her once.

       I left Neverwinter the next day, by way of the Wayfarer's guild.  I paid the necessary sum to have Lashrael and myself teleported back to the outskirts of Waterdeep.  I rose straight into the city, heading for the house I'd bought.  It was early morning, but the sounds from within told me that Sera was already awake, for I heard her voice demanding food.  I knocked on the door, to warn Lita that I was entering…after all, the last thing I wanted was to burst in, and have Lita attack me, or something.  Lita opened the door, and gave a wry grin when she saw me.

       "Back already?  Well, you're just in time for food."  I nodded, quietly.  I was still rattled from the encounter the previous day, and once more seriously doubting my judgment.  Alliana and Sera were seated at the table in the kitchen.  Alliana was sitting, looking clean and dainty, as little girls should, eating her porridge with a spoon.  Sera, meanwhile, was covered in her breakfast, with bits of mush clinging to her cheeks and hair, and the front of her dress.  She seemed to be attempting to use a spoon, which was clutched awkwardly in her tiny fist, but not doing so very well.  Sanhadrian was seated on a nearby counter, and I could sense that he was laughing at Sera's pitiful skills with cutlery.  I chided him mentally, reminding him that while Sera's skills were few, he possesednone, being the suirrel that he is.  Through the mental bond I had with my familiar, I sensed Sanhadrian's happiness at my return, although, he turned his tail to me, trying to act wounded at my departure.  

       Sera, on the other, did not even attempt to contain her joy at my return.  She looked up and saw me, and squealed as she launvhed herself from the chair, crying "Kele!"  I have to admit that I felt my spirits lift, just knowing that despite all my mistakes, there was still someone in the world who loved me, regardless…even if she was only a baby dragon.  I did not even mind that she got oatmeal all over me, as she planted baby kisses all over my face, her sticky fingers tangling in my hair.  I held her tightly, glad that I would soon be returning home, and my little one would no longer be in harm's way.

       Things did not quite go as planned, though.  As soon as things settled down a bit, Lita informed me, that since I had run my "errand," she had one of her own to do…and that since she had taken care of my "little darling," I should be fair and return the favor, and keep watch over Allianna, while Lita did what she had to.  At first I thought to protest, and reminded Lita that my knowledge of children was extremely limited, and certainly did not run to human children.  Lita merely waved her hand at me, and replied that neither had she, when she'd given birth to Allianna, but hadn't she managed, adding that I would manage as well.  

       So I agreed.  As Lita said, it was only fair, and in some way, I was honored that the human woman trusted me enough to watch her child…although, I think she would not have, had it not been for Sera.  Lita claimed she would only be gone for a month, maybe two at the most.  Besides, how hard can it possibly be?  Allianna is older that Sera, and can probably follow instructions well enough…I can certainly make two little girls behave.

       So Lita left a few days later, admidst tears from her daughter.  She refused to explain the nature of her trip, and told me that I would find out when she got back.  

       I shall never again underestimate the truly evil nature of little girls.  It must be something that they are all born with…or perhaps they are taught such abilities by their mothers…or whatever female figure happens to be around.  I simply could not understand how two of them could be more than two times the trouble of caring for only one!   I think it must be one of those great mysteries of life that only the gods know the answers to.

       Within the first few hours, they had all but destroyed any semblance of order in my house.  Toys were everywhere, everything was id disarray, and Sanhandrian had fled in terror to the rafters…out of reach from the little monsters.  It was an impossible task to watch both of them at the same time.  Thinking to get a bit of respite, I told them both it was time for a nap…it took me four full hours to catch both of them, and another two to get them to lay down…by that time it was time for dinner any how.

       Things just got worse from there.  I won't go into the details of the nightmarish weeks that followed Lita's departure.  Let us just say that the little hellions were creative in their chaos, and that it took me an entire afternoon to wash the paint out of Lashrael's mane, after being kicked more than once by the devil-horse; I am no longer welcome in several establishments in the city, including three taverns, and two clothing stores; and finally, Rosaleen seems to find no end of amusement at my torment, and if do not find the willpower to resist the words "Please, Kele," I will never have enough money to return to Evermeet!

       Thus it was with great relief that I handed Allianna back to the custody of her mother, nearly a month and a half later.  Lita's seemed far too amused at my dismay and the chaos that reigned in my house, but chuckling she claimed that I had done better than she had thought.  After all, the house was still standing.  I tried not to think to long or hard on that particular comment.  

       Lita refused to tell me what she had been up to, only saying that she would tell me, eventually. Irritating wench.

       The next few weeks I spent putting all my affairs into order.  I had a bit of trouble booking passage to Evermeet, which infuriated me to no end, though I am proud of how well I kept my temper in check.  After all I had wanted to kill the captain of the ship, who stated that he would not give a half-human passage to Evermeet…I didn't ever hit him for the grave insult, although I still have marks on my palms, from my fingernails, as I was clenching my hands so hard I drew blood.  The captain was a moon elf, like myself, and for him to call me a…Cha Tel Quessir…was the worst sort of insult…and I let him know it.  I recalled, from my youth, a voice my grandfather Cefwyn had often used, to make his point.  My tone positively wintry, I asked the captain why he dared call me such. 

       "There are no elves who carry such a height, or breadth as yours," he responded, in a superior tone.  "Only those with… human blood could look as you do."

       "Really," I sneered.  "Do you have any idea who I am?  And further more, how dare you insult our King?!"  

       "How dare you insinute that I would indult King Zaor?" the captain gasped, outraged.  

       "By the insulte to my own…unusual height, you insult not only our king, but his son, the prince Lamruil.  When he drew breath, King Zaor stood well over 6 feet in height, and the prince was well on his way to matching his father's stature, when I last saw him," I stated, coldly.  I saw a slight, nearly imperceptible change in the elven captain…a shifting of his weight from foot to foot as he seemed to consider my words.

       "Still…height is only one thing…" the elf began.

       "I will ask once more, do you know who it is that you are insulting?"  The captain remained silently, and I could see him begin to reconsider his words.

       "My name is Keledrial Nightstar, son of Saelihn Nighstar and Valorian Hawksong, first born, and heir to the Nighstar family, nobles of Myth Drannor, and Evermeet, and the moonblade of that family; lost these past 4 and a half decades to walk among the humans of Ruathym, and if you do not wish to make a powerful enemy, you will accept my coin and grant passage, for myself and my child, to my home!" I declared in an voice that I have never before used.  I saw the elf blanch, his silvery skin growing paler.  Another moon elf approached the captain, and though his words were low, I heard them easily enough.

       "Captain…I've heard of Keledrial Nighstar…he was indeed lost, as a child…in a storm between the Moonshaes, and Ruathym …it was said that their heir to that house had a very…distinctive shade of hair."  The captain nodded slowly, and I saw him swallow his pride.

       "You have my most fervent apologies, Lord Nightstar.  Please…my crew and I will gladly take you to Evermeet.  There will be no cost."  

       "I will pay my own way," I replied, irrately.  "As any other passenger would. And you would do well to keep word of just who I am to yourself."  The captain nodded, and held his hand out for me to clasp.  I did so, maintaining a tight leash on my temper, which was veritably crackling within in me, even as a voice within me shouted to slay the wretch who dared insult us.  I ignored him, but let the captain know, without a doubt of my strength.  He flexed his hand surrepitiosously, even as I signed the necessary papers to secure mine and Sera's passage home.  I also decided to bring Lashrael along, for they were willing to transport him.  Though I have little love for the damnable animal, as he tries my patience at every turn, I find that I cannot stomach the idea of turned him over to some human who might geld him, or try to break his spirit.  So he will go with me to Evermeet, and be more than happy, no doubt, to bedevil the moon horses who live there.

       Securing passage was but one of the many things I had to do before I could leave.  I resigned my position at Brian's forge, gifting my former employer with the last of my work, and telling him to keep, or sell the pieces as he desired.  He claimed that he was sorry to see me go, as it meant that he would losing a good smith, and the sword coast would be losing a force for good.  I shrugged at the first and laughed at the second.  The few evils I had helped defeat seem paltry, and I did not feel deserving of any praise for the little I had done.  Brian looked as though he wanted to argue, but did not.  He merely grinned, gripped my wrist in the clasp of a warrior, and wished Tymora's luck for me on my journey homeward.

       Celedor did not seem overly surprised when I announced my decision.  Celedor claimed that it was probably the best thing for me, to be once more immersed in the culture of our people.  He apologized once more for his underestimation of myself, and I shook my head, refusing it.

       "You were right, Celedor…in the end, I am still too much a youth, and this human world is not something I have dealt well with."

       "What did the others, your friends have to say of your leaving?" Celedor asked.

       "They are no friends of mine," I was quick to say.  Then I shrugged, in response to his question.  "I have not seen them since we defeated the leader of the shadow thieves in Skullport, save for Lita.  They do not know where it is that I am living, or of my decision.  I do not think they have even tried to seek me out."  Celedor sighed, shaking his head.

       "Have they not?  Or have you made it so difficult to be found, that they cannot reach you?  Keledrial, despite your anger towards them, they have been your companions for over a year. You should tell them that you are leaving, and not let them wonder what happened to you."

       "Why?  They are not my friends," I replied, hating the petulant tone to my voice in that moment.

       "Because they saved your live, as much as your saved theirs.  And because perhaps some of them tried to be your friend, but you made it so difficult, that they could not reach you."  I sighed.  

       "Do you truly think this is important, Celedor?" I asked.  He nodded.  I sighed again.  

       "What if I just sent them a note?"  the priest of Corellon glared at me.

       "Do not play the coward, when it is not what you are, Keledrial Nighstar."

       So I sought out the party members at their tavern…which was well on the way to becoming an inn as well.  The place was still be worked on, but the tavern was full of travels depite the noise of hammers and saws.  I waited until nightfall, so I knew they would all be there.  I was not disappointed.  Even Ranon, it seemed had finally taken up with the others, though he and Tobias still, apparently, were sniping at each other.  

       They were all seated at their private table, behind the bar, talking about the construction, and profit margin, and so on.  They fell quiet as my shadow fell upon them, and despite my resolve, I felt a prick of hurt that I had failed with these people, just as I had failed with the Ruathym men, and the elven children.  I wondered if they would ever be a place, and a people with whom I would fit in.

       "Keledrial," Ranon said, breaking the silence.  "Where have you been hiding yourself? Haven't seen you around at any of the usual places."

       "That is because I have not been to them," I replied quietly.

       "You might have told me that you meant to move out of the loft," Tobias groused, adding his voice.  I shrugged.

       "Why?  You have a place to stay here, and I was paying for the place anyhow." 

       "Why don't you sit, and have a drink with us?" Calvin asked, in his calm voice.  I swept my gaze to regard all of them, Tobias looking guiless, his expression open…Ranon, nodding in agreement with Calvin's proposal, trying to repair damage done…Hank, seeming dazed, his focus slightly off the reality around him, more druid now, than the warrior I had once thought to respect…and Calvin, ever guarded, ever calm…hiding his disapproval behind a gesture of false friendship.  There was not even another chair for me at the table…they would have had to fetch one.  

I shook my head.

"No…I only came to tell you that I am leaving."

"Leaving the group?" Calvin asked.

"Why?" Tobias added, looking a bit confused. 

"Leaving the group, leaving Waterdeep, and leaving these shores entirely," I stated.  "I am neither needed, nor wanted in the group," I began.  Instantly their voices rose in false protest.

"Shut up!" I commanded, and strangely enough, they fell silent.

"Continue on with you tavern, or with your adventuring…I care little.  But I will not be going.  It is long past time I returned to where I belong…to Evermeet.  And that is where I mean to go.  I only came to tell you because it would have been thoughtless of me to vanish without word…and to…thank for the courtesy you've shown me. I vow, I will not forget it."  With a curt nod of my head at them, I turned and walked out.  Indeed, I shall never forget the…courtesy…they showed me. 

Elaith proved far easier to speak with, and seemed understanding of my need to go home.  He added that he had always meant to help me return there, when I was ready.  I replied that I would no forget the debt I owed him, adding that he need only send word to me, and I will come to his aid.  He nodded, and I knew that as I would not forget, neither would he.  Perhaps Elaith has walked a dark path since his own leave taking of our homeland, but I will never believe him evil, nor capable of evil against his own people, not when he has shown himself to be  true comrade, when I was in desperate need of someone to help me.

I only had two more people left to deal with.  I started with Rosaleen first, speaking with her the day before Sera and I were to leave.  She knew of my plan, and seemed genuinely saddened to see me going.  I am quite fond of her, I confess, for she has ever helped me…not only in showing me that I could be desired, and helping me when I most needed aid, but because she was a truly kind and friendly person, who did not deserve to spend the rest of her life as a tavern wench.  I had figured out how much money I would need with me on Evermeet, to get there, to pay for lodging and necesseties, should there be nothing left of the Nightstar family, or if things should go wrong.  Since I decided to travel as light as possible, I'd converted the necessary amount to gems. That still left me with a great deal of heavy coin…spoils from my adventuring.  Unlike the rest of the party, I had never spent frivolously, and had worked continuously between adventures.  My dramatics abouting soending a great deal of coin on Sera and Allianna, notwithstanding, I still had large sum of money that I did not need where I meant to go.  

So I gave it Rosaleen.  St first I think she wanted to refuse it, perhaps thinking that it was some sort of payment for her kindness.  I was quick to explain that the gold was a gift, from one friend to another…that I had no need of it, and that I thought she deserved to be able to choose what she wanted to do…and that the gold would give her the ability to do so.  She did not protest any longer, her eyes brimming with tears as she took the money.  I do not think that she had ever seen so much coin in her life.  I told her to take the money and do with it as she wanted…to go away  and start a new life for herself, or throw it away, if that was what she had a mind to do.  She threw her arms about me, and whispered that she would never forget me, that I had certainly made life interesting the past year, and that she hoped I finally found the peace I sought, in Evermeet. I do not think that I will ever forget her either…not even if I should live to a time when the bones of her great, great, great children, are dust in the earth.

Lita was the last on the list, but that is because it took me that long to get the papers in order.  It was my last day in Waterdeep.  I gave to the human woman, the deed to the house I had bought.  I would not need it, and it was certainly the perfect place for a woman and her daughter.  Littlke accepted the small scrap of paper, with a smile.

"You certainly are a character, Keledrial," she smiled.  Allianna, who was there with her, asked in an increduolous tone,

"We get to stay here, Mommy?  For good?"  Lita nodded, smiling with her daughter.

"Aye, if you like, my Alianna…and now, shall we give a present to Kele?"  Allianna nodded, even as I bristled at Lita's shortening of my name…it is one thing for a pair of little girls to call me Kele, and quite another for Lita to do so.  Lita had been carrying a long package with her, when I'd invited her and Allianna to the house…and she handed it to me, at that moment.

"With my gratitude, and thanks for helping me rescue Allianna," Lita grinned.  Curiosly, I unwrapped the cloth from the package.  I have always liked presents.  Inside was a long piece of metal that tingled with subdued magic…the broken end of a great sword.  It took me a moment to realize the sword for what it was…the last piece to the blade of Tempus…the one that I had thought was still in some fortress to the south.

"But how?" I asked Lita, marveled over the blade, and imagining how I might be able to repair it, restore it to its former glory.  She only smiled enigmatically, as was her way.  

"You are a good kid, you know that?" Lita stated, almost seriously.  " A few more years and you'll be a great man…or rather a great elf.  And remember, Kele Nighstar, if things don't work out for you on your island, you have friends here."

"How could things not work out?" I wondered aloud.  Lita shrugged, hugging her daughter, who seemed ecstatic about the idea of being able to live in the house.  Sera was dancing about, thinking all the excitement grand fun.

"You never know…things change…you've changed.  Just remember that when you go home." I only laughed, amused at Lita's worried.  Nothing could go wrong.  I am going home!

We left the next morning with the tide.  Lita, Allianna, Rosaleen, and Celedor were all there to see me off.  Sera was busily waving to them, not aware, I think, that we might never see any of them again.  She was bright-eyed, and keyed up with all the excitement.  I was so busy watching her, and struggling with all my feelings as the ship pulled away from the dock, and out into the harbor, that I hardly noticed a familiar person step up to the rail beside me.

"So, Keledrial…I hope that Evermeet is all that you make it sound.  I turned, to stare incredulously at Tobias.  

"What in the name of Corellon are you doing here?" I demanded.  Tobias grinned.

"I told you that I always wanted to see Evermeet.  Now seemed like a good time to do it."

"And the others?" I asked.  He shrugged.

"They big boys…they can take care of themselves.  Besides, the tavern will run just as well, without me.  I'm a bard, Keledrial.  My one goal is to see the world…and what kind of elf would I be, if I could never say that I've been to Evermeet."  I shook my head, wondering if he was up to something, or if he was telling the truth.  But since he was onboard, and appeared to be staying for the duration, I imagine that I will have plently of time to figure it all out. 

The trip to Evermeet has been very long…almost six months, by my guess.  I had never been so long on a ship…not even on the summer raids on Ruathym.  The sailors on the ship and I got along fairly well, after they realized that I knew what I was doing, and was willing to lend a hand, despite my noble birth.  It is, I think, a good thing that they allowed me to do so, or I think I might have died from boredom.  

       I read through the books I had brought with me in no time at all.  Tobias was company, and he was trying desperately to prove to me that he was my friend.  He told all sorts of stories that he'd heard…about growing up in the circus, and things in general that he'd seen or heard of.   He at least kept Sera amused, somewhat, a difficult task for the most part.

       Sera became very difficult several weeks out of Waterdeep, when she realized, finally, that we were leaving "home," and most likely not going back.  She started to cry all the time, asking when we were going home to see Lita and Rosa and Alli.  She cried even more, when I tried to explain her that we were going to a new home, and that it would be a long time before we saw any of the others again.  She was inconsolable for several days, not understanding, I think, what was really happening.  I think she thought I was punishing her for some wrongdoing.  It nearly broke my heart to see her tears, she was so listless and unhappy, and when she was not crying, she rarely spoke, or removed her thumb from her mouth.

       I sat with her for some time, trying my best to explain Evermeet, and how pretty it was there.  I told her we were going to see my family.  She seemed to grow a bit more interested, but was still uncommunicative for another week or so.  Finally, she seemed to tire of it, and she quickly became the darling of the ship.  Many of the sailors had not been around children often…some had children of their own back on Evermeet.  Whatever the reason, they all doted on her, and turned from their tasks to pay attention to her, whenever she was near the,.  She received a whole host of toys and dolls, mostly whittled from driftwood, or magically shaped.  My heart felt much better seeing my daughter smile again.  

       As you can tell, I have not written much in my journal, for what shall I write of, when days in and day out, it is nothing but waves and sea, ropes, and sails?  I wait eagerly for my return, although I am still uncertain of what to do when I get there.  I know I will go to Nightstar house, but from there, I do not know.  I do not even know if any of my family members are alive.  I could ask the sailors, but I find I cannot broach the subject.  I shall have to wait, I fear.

We made it past the defenses of the island, and I caught my first sight of Evermeet, just as the sun was rising.  The island sat, like a verdant, green, jewel in the middle of the ocean.  The water around the island was calm and peaceful, and my heart filled with unimaginable happiness as I saw my home for the first time in over four decades….when I'd once thought never to set eyes on it again.

        An hour later, we sailed into the port of Leuthilspar.  Tobias was asking questions by the dozen, but I had no voice with which to answer him.  I was still in awe that I had finally come home.  The towers rose before us, and I took Sera into my arms, and pointed at them for her to see.  I am not certain how impressed she was, since she had just woken up, rubbing her eyes sleepily.  It took a bit of time for us to be cleared by the harbormaster to leave the ship.  I left the majority of mine and Sera's things of the ship.  It would be docked for some many weeks, and I would have to first see where I will be staying before things can be unloaded.  I had Tobias see to having Lashrael temporarily stabled, and told him to take the diamond road to a place called the Green Sword Tavern.  It was, as I recall a fair inn and tavern, where many green and silver elves stayed.  Tobias wandered off shortly after that, his head whipping about as the bard tried to take in all of the amazing sights.

       I walked at a fairly sedate pace…at least for me, towards my destination.  As I looked about me, I was surprised to see that nothing had changed…it was all exactly as it had been the day I had left, so very long ago. My house was not too far from the harbor, no more than a few miles.

       Sera and I walked up the diamond road a ways.  She had to get down, out of my arms, and examine the road, which appears to be made from a pure crystal, smooth and shiny, but is more safe as any stone to walk upon…not slippery in the slightest.  She asked how it got there, and I explained simply, that magic had created it.  We turned off the main road, and as we walked, I pointed out more familiar places to here, saying the names, though they meant nothing to Sera.  My little one was merely staring, wide-eyed at everything.  The people who passed us smiled at her, always happy to see an elven child. 

I noticed it quickly enough, though…they were staring at me….most of them stopped to do so.  I heard whispering start up in my wake.  I towered over many of the people…with only a small few coming anywhere near my height.  And there were none that I saw, who was built as I am.  Already there were whispers…but my people are different than humans.  They will accept me.  They must.  I do not think I could bear any more rejection.

       We passed by house Silverspear, another family that, like my own, had managed to escape the terrible fate at Myth Drannor.  The house was relatively small, but was a jumble of different architectural types that were highly confusing to look at.  We walked past house Nierdre, a gold elven family complex made entirely of shiny, black stone, which was a rare material for any structures in Leuthilspar.

       Then I saw it, house Nightstar…it rose up before me, s large building made of a melding of magically grown wood and stone…the symbol of my family, an eight pointed star embossed in silver, gleaming brightly over the main entrance to the house.  The gates were open, as they always were…I am not even certain if they have ever been closed.  

       There were a few people wandering about outside, but they paid no attention as I moved up the walkway, towards the door.  I suddenly felt terrible fear, and yet a sense of relief…I was finally home.  There seemed to have been no damage done, so I assume that it had either been repaired, or the house had not been damaged at all during the attack on Evermeet.  

       With Sera in one arm, I knocked on the door.  A few minutes later, it was opened, by an elf I did not recognize.  We did have servants at house Nightstar, but since there were always so many people wandering about the place…distant relatives and cousins, and any one who happened to bear the name Nightstar, there was never anyone in particular to open the door.  

       "Can I help you?" the elf asked politely…I studied him for a moment, trying to remember. Brilien…that was his name, it finally came to me.  He was a Nightstar…a distant uncle of some relation.  I was never really certain how he was related to me…the only relatives I had paid much attention to had been my immediate family.  So I asked the question, hoping for a good answer.

       "I need to speak with the head of the house," I said.  

       "Right, and who do you want to speak with, Haelma or Saelihn?" Brilien asked.  I had to restrain myself from grabbing him.

       "What do you mean…Saelihn?" I asked, hesitating at saying my mother's name.  

       "What do you mean, "what do I mean" ?" he replied.  "It's a simple question."

       "Saelihn Nightstar…she drowned…in a shipwreck," I stated, managing to keep my voice from breaking.

       "She was in a shipwreck…oh two score and bit more years back…but I assure you, she did not drown," Brilien replied, giving me an odd look.  

       "Do I know you?" he asked suddenly.  I did not answer for a long moment.  I had just been told my mother was alive.  I did not want to believe it at first…could not believe it.  How could she had survived?  All this time I'd thought her dead and gone to Arvandyr…but then, why not?  I had survived, and certainly, I had been the least equipped to do so.  And why would Brilien lie, when he obviously had no reason to do so?  I managed to catch hold of my thoughts, and take a deep breath, calming myself.  

       "Do you not recognize me, even a little, Brilien?" I asked.  He stared at me a minute more.

       "You seem familiar…but I cannot place you.  Your hair," he gestured, "is definitely familiar…rare hue that it is…but…"

       "You know me, though it has been…oh…a score and a bit more years since I last saw you," I said, using his own words.  Recognition finally dawned, followed closely by disbelief.

       "You…can't be Keledrial.  He died…"

       "Did I?" I asked, softly.  "I stand here before you now…" Brilien kept shaking his head in disbelief.  I sighed.  I knew this would be difficult.  

       "Look, whether or not you believe me, I am Keledrial Nightstar, Brilien Nightstar…and I want to know where my mother is, this very instant," I demanded.  

       "They're…in the solarium…having breakfast…wait!  Let me warn them first!" Brilien began to chase after me as I strode off towards the solarium, knowing the way easily, as though I had only been here the day before.  

       I slowed as I approached the door, taking a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for a reunion I'd never expected…my mother was alive.  Brilien caught up with me, but I warned him to keep quiet.  I guess I frightened him, for he took a few steps away from me, and fell silent.  I looked at myself in a mirror, in the hall, seeing myself as my mother would see me in but moments.  

       My hair was brushed, and free from the braids I usually wore.  My tunic and shirt were clean…the best I had at the moment.  The tunic had been made by my foster-mother, just before she'd died.  It was a bit fancy, with runic embroidering around the hem and collar, made of soft, blue wool.  The last time I'd worn it, had been to her funeral, and was growing tight around the shoulders…but it was the best I had.  It made me look…human, though, was all I could think.  

       Sera at least was dressed prettily, with a white linen under-dress, and a velvet overdress of sapphire blue.  She looked just as a little elven girl should, although her clothing was also of human-make, and design.  

       From the shadows of the doorway, I moved closer, and peeked into the solarium.  A large table had been set up in there, as it always had been.  There was a good dozen or so moon elves seated around it, most of whom I can vaguely recall.  My eyes scanned faces, and my mind drew forth names…some had changed, other remained just as I remembered.  

       I first saw my aunt and uncle, Halaema and Arient.  They were seated on the left side of the table.  Next to them was a young-looking elf, whom I recognized to be my cousin, Sylthas.  Sylthas had grown tall and lean, but I knew it was him, all the same.  Beside him was a young elven maid, that I did not know, but who bore a distinct resemblance to my uncle.  

       On the right side, were my parents…both of them…looking very nearly unchanged.  Upon further examination, I did notice a weariness to my mother's face…a line or two that had not been there before.  My father had a few silver hairs in among the sapphire…but otherwise  they seemed the same.

       At first I could only focus on them, unable to breathe for fear it was some form of hallucination.  I had never once thought that they might have lived…but they had. And suddenly it occurred to me…my parents had lived…why had they never tried to find me?

       My scope of vision widened, and I noticed several things.  First I saw the girls…two young elven girls, about the same age as the other.  They were seated beside my father, and the resemblance was unmistakable.  They were alike as mirrors, twins…and both with rich, sapphire blue hair, and the same smile as my mother.  Then I saw the boy.

       He came in through another entrance, on the far side of the room, rubbing his eyes, sleepily, as Sera was wont to do upon waking.  He had short hair…the very same color as mine…I could not see his eyes, but would wager that they were green.  As Sera looks to be a tiny, feminine version of me, so this child, no more than a few years older than Sera, looked to be my miniature duplicate.  Unlike myself at the same age, though, this boy did not look frail, or weak, or slight.  He saw my mother, and ran to her, having no trouble with that simple action, as I once had.  He began to speak with my mother, in a high-pitched, animated tone.  I heard what he said clearly enough, but there is no word, save one that I can recall.  He called her…my mother… " "Mommy."

       In that instant, I felt I knew exactly why my parents had not sought me out.  I suppose there is always the possibility that they thought me dead, as Brilien had said…but there are ways to tell whether or not a person's spirit had passed on.  So either they had never checked…or they had, and had ignored it…preferring to leave me lost, while they returned home to have more children… healthy children, who were able to run and laugh and play like normal children. 

 Looking at the little boy…and the two girls, I knew that they had been successful…I had siblings.  I had never imagined such an event…not even once.  

       I watched them for a few more, long, minutes…growing more and more angry.  My parents had abandoned me…to death or Ruathym, it made no matter.  They were alive, and so was I…and they'd not come and rescued me…that was all that mattered in that moment.  I felt my rage tugging within me, rising swiftly, but I kept in check.  Finally, I could not stand by watching a moment longer…I stepped out of the shadows, and into the solarium.  

       For a moment no one noticed me, all occupied with food, and conversation.  Sera seemed to sense that something was about to happen, and stuck her thumb into her mouth at that moment…a gesture that I notice she often uses when she is upset or frightened.  For Sera's sake I did not raise my voice, but my words, so filled with scorn and anger…and hurt, had the same effect, as though I'd shouted them.

       "So mother, father, I now see the reason you never came to get me…all I really want to know is how you could simply abandon me?" I hissed, staring at them.  The conversation in the room slowly died, as one by one the people at the table looked at me.  I saw my parents look up, and recognize me…I saw the disbelief…the shock…and all I felt was the hurt and the anger screaming…I could swear I heard a familiar voice laughing…in my head.  But as Celedor had eternally cautioned me, I ignored him.  My mother's hand went up to her mouth…and my father seemed to go more pale than normal.  And on her lap, that…child spoke. 

       "Who's that, mommy?" he asked.  

       "Yes…who am I, mother?" I sneered.  

       "Keledrial…"I heard my aunt whisper, incredulously.  My gaze flickered to her for a moment.

       "Hello, Aunt Halaema," I greeted her, casually.   Inside, I was screaming…I looked back to my parents.  My father finally managed to draw breath enough to respond.

       "You…you can't be our son…Keledrial was…he was…"

       "Was what, father?  Weak? Frail?  Sickly?  Small?  Yes…I was, wasn't I? But your new…children aren't, are they?  They're all healthy…you don't worry about them dying, do you?  Or maybe you were glad when I drowned, and that's why you never looked for me?" I said.  Then the little boy spoke again, interrupting the obviously tense conversation with childish ignorance.

       "Keledrial?" he asked no one in particular.  "Like me…Keledrial and Kedrial…Keledrial and Kedrial!" he sang in a silly song-voice.  My temper slipped at that, hearing that they'd given the child a name so similar to mine… a replacement son.

       "Was I that easy to replace?!" I screamed at them.

       "Keledrial," my mother began, but just at that moment, I was too upset to hear anything she might have had to say.  She started to rise, and I hardly registered the fact that she had to grab onto a cane to do so.

       "Do you have any idea what I went through?!" I continued, my voice almost shrill.  Sera, was beginning to whimper, as she held tight against me, covering one of her ears with her free hand.  At that same time, the boy…Kedrial, began to whimper as well, clutching at my mother's dress.

       "Mommy," he sounded frightened.  

       "Shut up!" I turned my attention to him.  "She's my mother!"

       "Keledrial, he's only a child," my aunt interjected, suddenly…warily.

       "And so was I, when I was abandoned by my own family to live with the Ruathym.  Gods, I hate you all," I declared, feeling something unfamiliar…a prickling at the corners of my eyes.  I turned and ran out, away from them.  I could not let them see me cry…let them see how much they'd hurt me. 

       I ran back down the streets, the way I'd come, pushing elves out of the way.  They were all too slow, walking so sedately, as though there was nothing in the world that could make them rush.  It irritated me to no end.  Everything might look the same on Evermeet, but it was all different…at least it was to me.  I was used to humans, they way they moved and acted…elves are completely different…in my mind I'd always thought that because they were the people, their ways were best.  In that moment, just in running down the street, I realized that all I really knew about my own people, was what I had read in books.  In actuality, my years on Evermeet had been spent, for the most part, alone. I saw the people stop…literally, stop and stare at me when I went by.  I heard the whispers erupt in my wake.  I knew what they were all talking about…my height, my size, my so very, un-elven appearance, and my un-elven actions.  I knew that the laughing and finger pointing would begin soon.  I'd suspected that this would happen, but I suppose some part of me dared to hope it might not…that the elves would be different from the humans.  It appears I was wrong, yet again.  At that moment, I thought that perhaps it was my fate…to eternally be a freak, among any society I tried to live in.

       I was already starting to cry, by the time I reached the banks of the river Ardulith.  I sat down at the edge of the river, grateful that the rush of the water was loud enough to cover the sound of my crying.  

       Sera, who'd been silent all through my outburst at Nightstar mansion, had seemed to think the run through the streets of Leuthilspar had been fun, but as soon as I put her on the ground next to me, and she saw my tears, she began to cry as well.  Until that day, she'd never seen me upset…for I'd not dared to cry, not even once, while in a human society.  The very thought of it had been kept away by the memory of my foster father's words that only girls cried, and the well-remembered slap that had accompanied the statement.  Come to think of it, many of my own people hold the sentiment that showing such displays of emotion is considered vulgar.  My parents had never believed such a thing, but I have come to believe, as the Ruathen do, that crying is a sign of weakness…yet for all my rational thoughts on the subject, I simply could not seem to stop.  It was almost like there was something about Evermeet that weakened my resolve. All I could think at the time, was how horrible everything seemed to be turning out.  Rationally, I know that I should have been glad that my family was alive, when I'd never thought to see them again, but I was being selfish, and childish, and all I could think was that they had abandoned me…and at the time, all the evidence seemed to point towards such a conclusion.  

       I swear I did not hear anyone approach…not that such a task would have been an easy thing.  Sera was wailing unhappily, and I had my arms wrapped around my legs, my face buried in my knees, trying hard to stop the weakness I was showing.  

       I felt his hand on my shoulder, before I heard him speak.  

       "Go away," I choked, not bothering to lift my head.

       "Come now," the voice…a male voice, said, "Things can't be as bad as all this."

       "You don't know anything," I replied, my voice muffled.  "Just leave me alone."

       "Ah…well, I can't do that.  I dislike the sound of crying… it makes me feel sad…why not tell me what's wrong?  Maybe I can help," he stated.  Finally I lifted my head, and strangely, I felt the worst of the tension, and pain fading.  I was able to stop crying, which I am devoutly glad of…crying makes me feel like a child, bringing back only the memories of being sick and small, and frightened all the time.

       Next to me, Sera seemed to feel the same sense of sudden calm, and her sobs turned to sniffles, and finally stopped all together, as she put her thumb into her mouth, and leaned against me.

       I looked to the person who come upon us, and saw before me a gold elf.  He had shoulder length, golden hair, and skin nearly the same color.  His eyes were sky blue, and seemed ancient, though he hardly looked much older than I.  I could not tell how tall he was, as he was sitting down, but I could swear he was at least as tall as me.

       "Now then, why don't you tell me what has got you so upset?" the elf asked.  And something in his tone made want to do just that.  I found myself telling the stranger everything.  When I spoke of my anger towards my family, he only said what I had already begun to think.

       "Perhaps you should be glad that they are still alive, when so many things, in so much time, might have taken that life from them."  I complained that they had abandoned me on Ruathym, and his response was,

       "Not everything is as it seems, you know."  I spoke about returning to Evermeet, and finding everything different from what I had thought it to be.

       "You have looked back to Evermeet all these years with the eyes of a child remembering a favored dream.  That you return to find things different is to be expected.  You have spent a long time among the world of men, where things are more-fast paced, and sometimes more exciting.  Have you thought, perhaps, that Evermeet is no longer the place for you?" he asked.

       "It has to be…I've worked all these years to try to come back.  It's my home!  I have to belong here," I protested, almost desperately.  The gold elf shrugged, and smiled.

       "Perhaps…but perhaps you will find that Evermeet is not so very large, or interesting…and that there are many other places in the world for you to go."   Finally the conversation even came around to the subject of my self-imposed penance to Corellon.  I explained what I had done to try to repair the damage I had caused, and he smiled, which almost made me angry.  It was no matter to be amused at!

       "Keledrial, has it not occurred to you, that Corellon forgave you long ago?  It is only yourself who can give you the forgiveness that you believe you need," he stated.  I looked away, for I had not liked the answer that I was the one who was responsible for making myself so miserable.  It was far easier to believe that a god was causing things to go wrong, as punishment for wrongdoing…but I suppose that he was right…I punished myself more than anyone else.  I felt him rise, beside me, and he laid his hand on my shoulder one more time.

       "Think on things a bit more, Keledrial Nightstar…for they  may not be as bad as you think."

       Then he was gone…as though he'd never been there in the first place.  I looked about, but there was no sign of him…even the place where he'd sat, on the grass by the edge of the river, looked undisturbed.  And then I realized that I had never told him my name, but he'd known it anyhow.  

       I have my suspicions as to who the elf might have been, but I will not give voice to them.  I have noticed one thing though, beyond all the rest of things, that is.  Ever since that elf laid his hand on my shoulder, the voice is gone.  The voice of Airk, within in my head, I mean.  You see, despite all that I'd done, talking with Celedor, not writing or speaking of Airk as a separate person, and trying my best to deny his existence, he had still been there…still whispering in my head that I would never be rid of him…that I was a part of him, and that he would grow strong again, and it would be me reduced to whispers.  He still seemed to take control of our body during some battles, but as I have gained more confidence, he seemed to have less control over me.  But now…it is like he never was…all the knowledge that he had is still mine, but there is no more voice…no incessant whispering and chiding, that I had grown used to hearing.  I'd never thought such a thing would occur, but it did…after the "elf" by the river touched me.  Strange?  Yet if he was who I suspect he might have been, it is not strange after all.

       I decided that the only thing to do was to return to Nightstar mansion…and give my parents a chance to explain.  After all, as…He…had said, it might all have been a misunderstanding on my part.  And I certainly do have a tendency to act before I think, sometimes.  

       I turned to Sera, who was still being quiet.  She had tears dried on her cheeks, and I dipped a cloth into the river and washed her face.  When I picked her up, she finally spoke, silver eyes wide and curious.  She touched my face, damp cheeks, and asked,

       "Kele crying?"  She'd never seen it before, and I think that it had been the sight of me upset that had made her so upset.  For her sake, I must be very careful to try to control my emotions better in the future. I nodded.

       "Yes, Sera.  Sometimes, even Keles cry," I explained to her.  

       "Don' cry," she said, repeating the words I used to her whenever she was upset.  "I love you," she declared in her childish voice.  I sighed, feeling a bit better.  Somehow just hearing those words helped, even if it was only a baby dragon, who thought I was both her mother and father, was the one saying them…actually, especially because she had said so.

       She is my daughter after all.

       "And I love you too, Sera," I replied.  She smiled again, and asked when we would go "look"…meaning she wanted to see the city.  I had to tell her "later", as we had to return to my Nightstar mansion.

       I moved slower as I walked back, pointing things out to Sera, and making certain that I was calm once more.  The front door to the house was open, as I had left it, and I was quiet as I walked in, not bothering to knock.  

       I heard them before I saw them, still in the solarium.  I peeked in, hiding once more in the shadows, for a moment.  

       Breakfast had been forgotten, on the table in front of them, and several voices were murmuring at once.  Most of the Nightstars in residence were now in the room, including Brilien, who was apologizing profusely that he'd not given them warning.  It was my mother's voice I focused on, and heard above all of the others.

       "We have to find him!" She looked to have been crying, as well.  My father nodded.

       "We will…it's Evermeet.  There are only so many places he could have gone to.  There are no ships leaving today.  He'll be in the city somewhere."  Though he was a bard, my father had always been very logical.  

       "I never thought…" my aunt began, but she did not finish the statement, merely shaking her head, with an expression of disbelief.  

       Then, I noticed someone behind me, and spun around to see who it was.  Sylthas.

       "Well, cousin…are you going to go in, and let your mother stop worrying…as she has since the day you disappeared?" my cousin asked, light disapproval in his tone.

       "Why do you care?" I asked, in a near sneer.  "With me back, you won't be the heir, anymore.  I would think you'd be happy to have me gone."  To my surprise, Sylthas' face grew dark, and angry.

       "How dare you say that?  You're family…we loved you.  We just couldn't find you.  I never understood why you disliked me Keledrial, but believe me, I have no interest in being the heir of house Nightstar.  It is far too much responsibility that I do not care to have."  I was confused at the statement, but once more, I began to wonder, how much time, and my own fears and conclusions had colored my judgment.  I said nothing to Sylthas…not certain of anything at that moment.  Instead, I turned from him, and looked back into the solarium.  

       I had to admit, my parents certainly looked upset…and the others…people I can remember, all looked rattled, as well. I took a deep breath, and stepped into the room, silently.  It took a moment or two before they noticed me standing there. Silence fell over the room, as everyone turned to look at me. I felt uncomfortable, with so many eyes upon me, but stood fast.  

       My mother jumped up from her chair, and came towards me.  I noticed then, that my mother was having trouble walking…that she was using a cane to aid her.  My father's approach was nearly as swift.  They slowed, as they got closer though, as though I were some wild animal that they were afraid to spook.

       "Keledrial," my mother began, her tone pleading.  "Please don't go…let us explain…please."

       "I thought that you didn't believe I could possibly be Keledrial," I stated, quietly, to both of my parents, even though it had been my father who'd said it.

       "It's just that you're so…different looking," my father claimed, trying to sound diplomatic.  "You have to understand…"

       "That I was sickly," I finished for him.  "Yes…I was…but I'm not anymore.  Things change, and so do people."

       "We always knew that you were alive," my mother stated quickly.  I forced myself to stay calm.

       "Then why didn't you come get me?" I asked through gritted teeth.  

       "We couldn't find you!" My mother nearly wailed.  "We looked and looked.  We had wizards and priests look for you with magic…we even had the people of the relay looking for you.  No one had seen you!  And wherever you were, no magic could pierce.  We tried everything I could think of.  We checked the islands around the Moonshaes for years…we just couldn't find you!" she sounded frustrated.  I looked about, and saw a seat, with the back to the wall, and sat down in it.  Sera was getting heavy, so I settled her in my lap, and looked back to my parents…and the rest of my "audience," a moment later.  

       "I wasn't on the Moonshaes," I told them, amazed at how calm I was managing to sound.

       "I was on the island of Ruathym, to the north of the Moonshaes."  Thinking for a moment, I recalled the strange magic that I'd always felt in the village on Ruathym…perhaps that would explain why they hadn't been able to find me magically.

       "There was a great source of magic in the village where I lived…perhaps that is why no magic worked to find me," I told them.  Chairs were dragged over, and my parents, aunt, and uncle all sat down, facing me.

       "Keledrial…I swear to you, we did not mean to abandon you.  We looked and looked…for years.  We survived the shipwreck when some sea folk rescued us and several of the crew…but they claimed they'd not seen you."

       "I'm not really certain how I survived," I replied, truthfully.  "I know that I prayed, but thought to die…I woke up on Ruathym with my foster mother, Ingrid trying to save me from a fever.  As you see, she succeeded."

       "Ruathym?" my father asked.  "That is where you've been…I have heard of it…but…we did not think you could have possibly been there…we did ask, in Ruathym city, but they claimed there were no elves on the island."  I sat forward suddenly.

       "When?!  When did you go to Ruathym city?" I demanded.

       "A year…perhaps, and a half, after we lost you," my father answered, startled.  For a moment, I fumed.

       "Damn them…they knew…they knew…"  The people of Ruathym city would have remembered such a visitation for a long time, yet not one of them had told me…it had never even been mentioned.  I wonder if my foster father had known, but thought it unlikely that he had not.  He had always been careful to keep things from me…not wanting me to leave…but to keep this from me!  And yet, I could not be angry at him for long, for it is in the past, and done with now, with him long dead.  Being angry now would affect only me, and repair nothing.

       "No one ever told me," I finally managed to say.  "I thought that you were dead."  My mother sat forward.

       "Listen to me Keledrial.  We tried to find you, I swear by all the Seldarine, we did.  We never abandoned you, we just ran out of places to look.    You must never think that we didn't want you…" she sobbed once, but managed to calm herself.  "You're our son…our firstborn, and we love you."  My father nodded, and I knew that they were telling the truth.  I couldn't think what to say next, though.  We had established that I had not been abandoned…but what to do now?  I noticed that everyone else seemed to be uncomfortable at the moment as well, judging by the long silence.  Fortunately, Sera chose that moment to interrupt.  She tugged on my tunic, to get my attention, and instinctively, I looked down at her.

      "Kele, I'm hungry," she stated, doing her best to sound as though she were starving.  

       "We'll get some food in a bit, Sera," I replied.  I looked back to my family, and saw their curious glances at Sera, although they seemed to be waiting for me to volunteer information.  I sighed.

       "Mother, father…everyone…this is my daughter, Kaithseraly Nightstar," I introduced them to Sera.  Sera smiled shyly at them, and added,

       "I'm Sera!"  I've noticed that most adults behave a bit oddly with children around, and my parents and relatives were no exception.  They all practically tripped over each other to introduce themselves…but I saw the surprise in my parents' expressions.

       "Your daughter, Keledrial?" My father asked.  I nodded.

       "And where is her mother?" my mother asked, delicately.

       "Dead."

       "Oh…I'm so sorry," my mother exclaimed.  I laughed, though the sound seemed strained to me.

       "That's all right.  I never actually met Sera's mother," I replied, even as Sera bit down on my hand, practically roaring this time that she was hungry.  

       "Sera!  No biting!" I yelled back at her.  Sera worked her face up into a pout.

       "Don't you dare," I warned her.  She opened her mouth, to start her usual temper-tantrum screams, but fortunately, at the moment, a servant of the house, whom I vaguely recalled, but could not remember the name of, appeared, with a tray of food, and said,

       "I believe I heard someone say they were hungry?"  Sera stood up in my lap, reaching for the tray.

       "Me!  I'm hungry!"  Before she could get it, I took hold of the tray with one hand and held it out of her reach.

       "Kele!"  She stomped her little foot…almost hitting a very sensitive spot on my lap.  

       "Kaithseraly Nightstar!  Look at how you're behaving!  You start acting like a lady this instant, or you can sit in the corner, and no food!" I told her.  Her lower lip began to tremble, and her eyes filled, on cue.  She always pulled the same act when I got upset with her, or threatened the corner.

       "Sorry, Kele," she sniffled.  

       "Are you going to behave, now?" I asked her.  She nodded, looking pitiful. 

       "All right then.  Do you want to eat at a table?" I asked, lowering the tray, which was very heavy, in truth.  She shook her head.  

       "Stay wif you," she stated.  Since it would have been too awkward to have Sera and the tray on my lap, I spread out the travel cloak on the floor, by my feet, and put tray and baby on the floor.  Sera easily got the top of the tray off, and began to daintily pick at the food, until she found something that met her satisfaction.  Satisfied that Sera was behaving, and would remain quiet for a while, I looked back at my relatives, who were all staring at me, as though I was some sort of oddity they'd just discovered.

       "Look, if I don't make her behave, she gets out of control," I explained, self-consciously.

       "Um…did you say that you'd never met…Sera's mother?'" my mother queried, obviously confused.   I nodded.

       "Sera's…adopted.  I mean…well…it's complicated."

       "But she looks just like you," my aunt protested.  I shrugged.  

       "Sometimes, things are more than they appear to be."  I knew it probably would have been easier to just come out and say that Sera was a dragon, but for some reason, I just couldn't manage to come up with a non-blunt way to do so.  Finally, my mother shook her head.  

       "Keledrial, just tell us everything…straight from the beginning.  I want to know everything…everything that's happened to you since the day the ship went down."

       "Um…I'm not really very good at telling stories," I protested.  At that, my mother got a very familiar looking expression on her face: determination.

       "Keledrial Nightstar, you will tell us exactly what you've been doing for the last four decades, and I mean right now!"  

"I will not!  You can't make me.  And furthermore, I don't really want to talk about it," I crossed my arms, irritated.  

"Keledrial," my father began, no doubt about to put his demand in.

"Fine!" I huffed.  "You won't like what you hear…or rather," I reached into the backpack I'd brought with me, and pulled out this very journal, "what you read."  I tossed the journal on the table in front of them.  They stared at it, blankly, and I have to admit, it's a rather odd sight, with all of its mismatched pages, and ink stained binding.

"I started this a few years after I washed up on Ruathym…so that after I died, some one might bring it back to Evermeet, and my family would know what happened to me.  I never really expected to survive, back then…and I written every word of what has happened to me since.  If you want to know so much, then read it…but as I said…you won't like what you read.  Things were not easy, and I did a lot of things in the name of survival, that I am not proud of.  Now, if you don't mind, I have been awake since midnight, as of two days ago, and I am very tired."

"You want to rest?  Now?" My father asked, incredulously.  

"Yes…now," I replied, firmly.  "It has been a very long few months, and needless to say, I need some time to…think about things.  Besides, Sera needs to have a nap, and it is the only time I have to rest."  At that, Sera piped up from where she was finishing her food.

"No nap, Kele," she stated, shaking her head.

"Yes, nap, Sera," I picked her up, then stood.  

"No sleepy," she tried to wiggle out of my arms.

"Yes, you are sleepy," I countermanded.  My parents stood as well, my mother looking momentarily frantic.

"You can't go!"  I looked at her, calmly.

"Where would I go, mother? " I sighed.  "It's Evermeet… there is no place to go."

"I mean…you'll stay here, at the house."

"If you wish," I shrugged, trying to act casual, although the idea of being back, in my childhood home again, was somewhat unnerving.

I was taken to an upstairs room, after they'd gotten the name of the ship I'd come in on.  They said they'd have all of my things brought to the house, although I am quite certain that they spent all of their time reading my journal.  It did not bother, me somehow, to know that my thoughts were being read.  After all, was that not what I'd intended with my journal?  And after everything that had happened, lately, I suppose I felt a bit removed from everything real.  I had been telling the truth…I was tired…bone-weary, and tired to the soul, as well…and frankly, I still needed some room to breathe, without being stared at, hence my escape.

When I awoke from reverie, some hours later, it was to the sound of voices, and the sensation of being watched…of someone in the room with me.

"Kedriel, don't touch him!" a girlish voice protested, in a loud whisper.  I felt someone touch my arm, poking at me.

"Kedriel!" another one joined the first. "You're not supposed to be in here!"  I opened my eyes, to see a small, elven face, not two inches from mine, staring intently.  

"Are you my brother?" the small person asked.  I sat up suddenly, forcing the child to lose his balance, and fall back, onto the furs, which I had spread out on the bed, to rest on. 

"I don't know…who are you?" I asked, still only half awake.

"I'm Kedriel," the boy said, still staring at me.  Glancing about, I saw that there were three girls at the door, none of them much past their third decade of life.  They froze when they saw me notice them.  They all looked very similar...very much like my mother and aunt, although two of them, I realized, were identical.  Then I turned back to the boy…my brother.  The child whose very appearance had so angered me, earlier.  He did not seem frightened now, as he had before.  

"You look like me," the child stated, his green eyes wide.  

"No, I am older, and so it is you who look like me," I corrected automatically.  Having had to deal with Sera and Alliana, I was somewhat aware of how a child's thoughts worked, and was used to correcting them.  

"How come you came home now?" Kedriel asked.  The three girls, who were still hovering near the door, had moved into the room, and at that point, one of them piped up with a question of her own.

"Mama said that you were lost.  Did someone find you?"  

"Is that your baby?" another girl asked, pointing at where Sera was still sleeping, beside me.

"How come you close your eyes when you go into reverie?" the third girl asked, her voice a little quieter and more shy that the other two.  I wasn't certain which question to answer first, if any.  I knew though, that my previous anger was calmed.  After all, it was not the fault of these children the things that had happened.  And it certainly wasn't right of me to take anything I felt out on them. So I answered the queries in the order that I received them. I looked at my brother…marveling that I had a sibling…probably more than one, judging by the girls' appearances.  Not only did I have a brother, but he was so small…maybe a few years older than Sera, and hardly more than a few inches taller.  It seemed all very strange to me some how…surreal.

"I came home now because it is the first chance I have had to do so, Kedriel," I informed the little boy.  "Before that, I forgot the way, and so I could not come back."

"You forgot the way home?!" Kedriel exclaimed, in a voice full with childish amazement.  I nodded.  The girls crept closer, and I turned to regard them.

" I was, indeed, lost, and some people…humans found me.  They took good care of me, until I was big enough to find my way home."

"You're really tall," the first girl stated.  Her twin nodded.      "Bigger than daddy, or uncle Arient."

"That's…my daddy," stated the third, more quiet, girl. I turned to regard her.  With her silvery hair, and blue eyes, she looked more than a little bit like my mother and my aunt, but there was something about the shape of her face that reminded me of my uncle Arient.

"If lord Arient is your father, than you must be my cousin," I stated.  She nodded.  

"I'm…Orianna," she said.  "Sylthas is…my…brother," she practically whispered, trying her best to hide behind the twins.

The two girls both allowed Orianna to hide, and eagerly stepped forward, and introduced themselves.

"I'm Amentrine!" one said.

"And I'm Anarihne," the other parroted.

"We're your sisters," they chimed together, sounding like tiny matched bells.  They looked like mirrors of each other, both with sapphire blue hair, and sky blue eyes…little versions of my mother, with my father's hair.

"And I'm Kedriel," my brother tugged on my tunic to regain my attention.  

"Well then…and I suppose you all know what my name is?" I asked them.  They nodded.

"You're Keledrial," Amentrine stated.  "Mommy and Daddy couldn't find you when the ship wrecked, but they said that someday you would come home."

"I guess they were right," I gave them all a smile, trying my best to keep from frightening them. 

"Is that your baby?" my sister, Anarihne, I think, asked once more, pointing at Sera.  I nodded, and gently caressed Sera's sleeping head.  She stirred for a moment, but did not wake.

"She is my daughter, Sera."  

"You're too young to have a daughter," Amentrine declared.

"Apparently not," I replied, once again attempting to gently wake Sera.  I did not want her to sleep all afternoon, or else she would not go to sleep later. She batted at my hand, but began to blink, and rub her eyes.  Then she noticed that there were people in the room.  She jumped up on the bed, and before I could stop her, she dove at my brother, attempting to bite him, and shouting,

"My Kele!"  I grabbed her before she could do any damage, although Kedriel had seemed inclined to fight back.  

"Sera," I warned.  "Behave."  She settled down after a moment, and her thumb went into her mouth, as she leaned against me, her free hand fisted possessively in my tunic.

"Why…does she…call you Kele?" my small cousin asked, in her halting manner of speech.  Before I could answer that, a more familiar face appeared in the doorway.  

"Here you all are," my cousin Sylthas exclaimed, sounding irritated.  "Aunt Saelihn and mother told you all to keep away from here," he scolded.  The younger children all tried, without much success to appear contrite over their misdeed.  While he spoke, I had a moment to truly take a good look at my cousin.  Sylthas had grown taller, and though lean, was not thin.  Where once he had been taller than I, I now towered over him…or would have, had I not been seated on the bed.  His silver hair was tied back in a tail at the nape of his neck, and his eyes were the color of golden topaz, like his father's.  He looked over to me, and smiled cautiously, as though he was not certain of me.

"I am sorry if they woke you, cousin," he stated.  I shrugged.

"I do not mind."  

"Your parents…they will want to know you've awakened," Sylthas said.   I nodded, and rose from the bed, running my fingers through the tangles in my hair.  

"I will walk with you," I replied.  Sylthas nodded, and I noted, out of the corner of my eye, that he had an expression of mild awe on his face as he watched me.  Odd…

"Kele!" Sera cried out frantically, when I moved away from the bed.  She reached for me.  "Don' go!"  I scooped her up before she could start crying.

"I won't leave you, Sera," I reassured her.  As we walked out into the hallway, the younger children ran off ahead, leaving me alone with Sylthas.  He stared at me for a moment, then seemed to catch himself.

"I am sorry…it's just hard to reconcile this image of you, with the Keledrial I always remembered."  I shrugged…my favorite gesture as of late.  "And it is hard to believe that you have a child," he looked to Sera, who stared at him, unabashedly.

"After all, you're only a little older than I am."  

"Who's dat, Kele?" Sera asked, pointing.  

"That is Sylthas, Sera."  

"Siltas?" she repeated.  

"Close enough," Sylthas smiled.  "Really, though, she looks just like you…it's hard to believe that she's adopted."  

At that moment, we came up to the door of one of the house's many sitting rooms, slightly ajar.  From within a chorus of childrens' voices exclaimed that "he's coming," and that "he's awake."  I paused a moment , before entering, strengthening my resolve.  I had a feeling that things would not be so very easy.  I was startled, however, when I felt Sylthas lay his hand on my arm.

"Listen Keledrial, we may not always have gotten along, but if you need to talk…or get away from all the…excitement, I'll be here to listen, or help in any way I can."  In my shock, it took me a moment to respond.

"Why…why are you behaving like this, when I ignored you, and avoided you since the day you were born?" I asked, incredulously.  He shrugged.

"Look, I remember what the other kids said about you…and me for that matter.  I never wanted to take your place…I just didn't know how to behave around you…I don't think any of the others did either…you were always so…different."  I laughed, it sounded bitter, rather than amused though.

"I fear that "different" is the nicest way of putting what I am." 

"Don't be so bitter, Keledrial." Sylthas shook his head. "You may not have been physically strong, but, if you will recall, you were well on your way to being one of the most powerful mages on Evermeet.  Perhaps all that has happened to you was the Seldarine's way of protecting you, and the power you have…had you stayed on Evermeet and continued your training, you would even now be in Arvandyr with the others."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked suspiciously.  He looked a bit surprised, and then a bit sad.

"I forget that you were not here…sometimes it seems hard for me to believe that there is anyone who does not know what happened.  When Evermeet was attacked…the towers…the towers were destroyed by the traitors.  There are no high mages left alive in Evermeet," he said.  I felt as though I had been punched hard, in the stomach.  

"Dead?" I repeated.  "Surely not all of them…no one could have…"

"But they did…and they are…" Sylthas interrupted. "So you see, perhaps there is a purpose for what happened to you."

"My teachers…" I whispered, incredulously.  Sylthas suddenly looked upset.  

"I should not have said anything…I scolded the others for bothering you, and here I a making things that much worse…"

"No…I would have found out soon enough any how…it is just one more burden for my conscience, "I sighed, pushing the door to the next room open, feeling once more disjointed for reality, as new realizations entered my thoughts.  

"What do you mean by that?" Sylthas asked, as he followed me in.  I shrugged.

"Have you ever the statement, for want of a warrior, the battle was lost?" I asked.  He nodded. 

"Then consider it carefully…if I had been here, perhaps the traitors would not have succeeded…one more mage…it might have made the difference…but nay, I was so foolish, I could not even remember where my home was!"  My voice rose, angrily, as my temper stirred.

"You must not think like that, cousin," Sylthas said, quickly.  "It took the combined power of Angarradh and our princess, Ilyrana, to defeat the terrible forces that were unleashed on Evermeet.  There was nothing you could have done."

"You do not know what I might have done!" My voice rose another notch.  "You have no idea what I can do…"  Sylthas took a step back from me, and I laughed harshly.

"That is right, step back from me, cousin…I drive fear into the hearts of my foes and allies alike…it should be no different with my family.  By the gods, am I such a monster that you would fear I would strike my own blood?!" I demanded of him.  

At the time, I did not realize that my raised tones had drawn the attention of my parents, and the others behind the door.  In my bout of self-loathing, I did not hear the door open behind me, but I heard my mother's voice, clearly as she ordered,

"Keledrial Nightstar, cease your dramatics!"   I turned to look at her, but unable to meet her eyes, fearing the worst.  She had, after all, at least begun reading my journal.  I nearly lost my hold on my temper entirely, when I heard Sylthas mutter under his breath,

"By the Seldarine, if this is what humans do to the people by their assosiacitian, then may I never leave Evermeet to see one."  I spun back on him, irritated.

"They made me strong…they taught me to survive, and they were good people, damn it!"  I defended my foster parents, for as much as they were not perfect people, I had grown to love them.  It did not occur to me at the moment that it was Brander and all the other Ruathen who taught me the skills necessary to be feared. 

"And we shall forever be grateful to the Windreivers for all they did for you, my son," my mother laid her hand on my arm in a comforting manner.  Beside her my father gave a very un-elven sounding snort, to which my mother responded with a glare.  My father loves my mother dearly, I have no doubt…but like Tobias, he is a bard, and thus he rarely seems to have difficulty in speaking his mind.

"They saved him true, but I do not know what to think of a man who hits a child for crying in a place that is frightening to him…especially if that child is my son," my father's voice tone was moderate, but there was a scathing edge of anger to it.  

"Just because the elves are less open in their disapproval of emotional displays, does not make the end result, the lack of ability to show ones feelings, more desirable," I stated, and as soon as the words were spoken, I wanted to recall them.  

"The elves?" my father choked at the term…the humans term for the people…and I'd spoken it common, more reflexively than anything else. He turned to mother.

"You see what they have done to him?  It will take decades to undo the damage, if ever we can!  This is not something that a few months of speaking to some minor priest will cure!"

"Valorian," my mother's voice held a note of warning in it.  My father ignored it, and in that moment, I knew that much of my temper had not been learned…but rather, inherited. My father's eyes were dark with anger.

"I read what he wrote…the things that they convinced him were "right," are atrocious.  He's a child…and they had him out killing people, and working day in and day out, like some sort of damned dwarf!  They saved his life, true, but they kept him from us!  They stripped away everything about him that was elven."  By that point my father's voice was nearing shout level.  

"I am still an elf, Corellon damn it!" I retorted.  "And the Windreivers kept the truth from me, but you kept from me the knowledge that would have allowed me to find the way home!  I never knew anything about anything that was not elven or Evermeet.  How was I supposed to find my way, when I couldn't even speak the common tongue when I left here?!"

"We were trying to protect you…to keep you safe," my father snapped.  

"Well, you failed!  I kept myself safe."

"By traipsing about with humans?  And dwarves?  Hunting dragons and gibberlings for Hanali's sake! You are the heir to your house, and you act like a…"

"If you say it, "I warned my father, "I will walk out of this house, and never return," I swore.  He quieted instantly, and I could see him mentally calming himself.  I forced myself to remember that this could not be much easier for my parents than it was for me, although, I grant, they at least knew I was alive.

"Come…lets go sit," my mother said, her tone nearly pleading. I nodded, and walked into the room with her.


	6. Chapter 6

The first thing in the room I noticed was Tobias, seated on a cushioned chair, by the far door.

"What are you doing here?" I immediately demanded.  "Didn't I tell you to wait for me at the tavern?"  

"Yes, but come on Keledrial…how often do I ever listen to you?"

"Good point…but why are you here?" I whispered.

"I didn't want to miss the show," he winked.  Annoyed, I dumped Sera in his lap, and told him to be useful, at the very least.  Sera immediately let out a piercing squeal of happiness, and demanded that "Toby" should tell her a story about dragons.

"You don't mind, Keledrial, that we invited your friend here?  We thought it might be easier for you," my mother stated, as she walked over to me.  She sounded so cautious, that I had to sigh.

"No mother, I do not mind."

"And I'm sorry that the children woke you…" she added further.

"Mother, please stop apologizing," I said.  "If I minded, I would tell you." 

"It's only that you seemed so upset at the sight of…Kedriel earlier," she explained.  I shrugged.

"Why wouldn't I be?  I have spent the last four decades believing myself an only child…and the past year thinking that perhaps when I returned to Evermeet it would be to learn that the whole house had been destroyed."

"No, thank the Seldarine…Leuthilspar did not see much battle, during that dark time," she replied, knowing that I meant the attack on Evermeet, without my having to say so.  "Most of the fighting happened in other places…like Corellon's grove."

"Is that how you were hurt?" I asked, gently, gesturing to her leg. She nodded.

"When the call to battle went out, all were needed…even Sylthas went…I just happened to have the misfortune of being near a tower when it fell…the rubble crushed my leg…and it has taken this long to repair," she explained, in a matter of fact tone.  I suppose, though, that she'd had plenty of time to become used to the injury.

"I am sorry I was not here," I said, as I sat down in a chair beside her.  

"I am not…had you been here we might have lost you," my mother stated.  

"Are you so certain that I am not lost anyhow?" I asked, shooting a glance to my father…who believed I had no elvenness left in me.

"We read what happened to you," my father stated.  "I can't express how sorry I am that we allowed that to happen to you.  But I want you to tell me the truth…do you still hear this voice you spoke of?"  Slowly I shook my head.

"I did, yes, until this very morning…when I ran from here, I went to the river…he was with me, screaming at me for being weak…taunting me…I've heard Airk for so long now, that I hardly notice him…but a gold elf was there…and he spoke with me… calmed me…and when he left, Airk was silent…as though he'd never been," I explained.  

"A gold elf, you say?" my father asked.  I nodded.  "And the voice is gone?"

"I have not heard it," was my response.  My parents exchanged a glance that I could not decipher. I wonder if they believed me.  There was silence for a moment, as though everyone was waiting for someone else to speak first.

"I do not know what to do, now," I finally said, quietly.  "I did not expect this…any of this.  I feared that I would come here to find all dead and gone…or at the least, to find Aunt Halaema here, Sylthas as heir, and myself unwanted."

"That isn't tru.." Sylthas began to interrupt, but I held up a hand to silence him.

"But that is what I expected.  The truth is, I came back to Evermeet because it is home…and because it has been my highest goal for all this time.  Now that I am here…I feel as though I am still lost…and do not know where my place should be."

"We'll figure things out, son," my father assured me.  "We'll take everything one step at a time, and one day at a time.  What matters is that you are home at last…everything else can be worked out from there."

The conversation only went on from there.  We covered a variety of subjects.  Despite having already read my story, my parents still wanted to hear, from my own lips what had happened.  I told them as much as I could.  I found that some things were very hard to speak of aloud…mostly my failures…and curiously enough the love I had felt for the Windreivers.  It almost seemed like I was betraying my parents by speaking of that love, and at the same time, I felt as though I was betraying the Windreivers by remaining silent.  Even without Airk's voice, I still find I am possessed of conflicting emotions.  

At one point, Sera, who was no longer occupied by Tobias, shifted to her true form, no doubt to gain more attention.  Apparently only my parents had read the truth about Sera, for everyone else, save Tobias, myself, and them, was almost comically surprised by her transformation.  I learned then that many of the dragon protectors of Evermeet had also died in the attack…and that Sera's presence would be welcomed…not that I had ever doubted it.

Over the next few days, I found that my parents were never far from me, their closeness almost stifling at times.  In many ways they still treated me as though I was the same frail child I was, and I had to force myself not to be irritated.  They, too, need time to adjust, and to realize that I am no longer frail, nor am I a child.  

We have spoken briefly about what place I might find for myself, now that I was home.  Obviously becoming a high mage was no longer an option…not after the loss of the towers.  I have thought that I might apprentice to an elven smith, learning to better my skills at the forge, and to expand on the use of magic in the creations of items.  My parents have also mentioned that there are still plenty of wizards on Evermeet, many of whom could help me with my magical studies.  I am a bit of leery of that, however.  I have learned, and become comfortable in my own use and style of magic…and I do not know that I will need much more instruction.  

I also hinted that I might join the army of Evermeet.  After all of the people, even the nobles are required to offer their service in one form of another to better the protection of Evermeet…however I sensed mild disapproval in my father at the suggestion.  While he might not mind my joining the royal guard, a soldier in the army was too common…or at least that is the feeling I sensed from him.  He is a good man, but a noble through and through…and with that nobility comes an innate snobbery, that even I am not fully free of.  

The truth of the matter is, that I find my father and I are at odds when it comes to a great many things.  He does not even fully approve of my association with Tobias…claiming that Tobias is not a proper elven name, nor does Tobias have a proper elven family.  I gather that he does not approve of Tobias moon and sea elven blood, or the way Tobias was raised.  Still, he had been unfailingly polite to Tobias, and cannot seem to help being interested in the songs and tales Tobias knows from the mainland.  

My father also does not seem to like the idea of my being a smith; once again I think it is because he believes the job to be too common.  The problem is, I think, that my father had always been dead-set on my becoming a wizard, and his mind-set has not yet grasped that I have more skills than just my talent for magic.

Mother has, at least, been more understanding.  She tries her best to be diplomatic, and often interrupts my father and I, just before the conversation gets out of hand.  For the most part, she keeps her counsel to herself, content to listen to my ideas, although I think she is silent more because she is still watching me, marveling over my return and subsequent altered appearance.  I think that she, too, is still having a hard time reconciling the Keledrial I am, with the Keledrial I was.

True to his promise, Sylthas has tried to be helpful.  He and Tobias thought that it might be good for me to get away from all that was happening.  They came up with the idea of going down to the Green Sword Tavern one night, about a week after my return.  Apparently Tobias had informed Sylthas of my penchant for bars, and drinking.  So I went with them, leaving Sera in the care of my mother.  Sera is quite taken with her "grandmother," and mother, to her credit, treats Sera as though she is the daughter of my blood, and not a dragon.  That, added to the fact that Sera need only ask to get whatever she desires, and I swear that Sera will soon be the most spoiled child in the whole world!

The trip down the tavern did seem like a good idea at the time.  But from the moment we walked in, things did not go quite as planned. There was silence within moments of our entrance…I had to duck to get in through the front without bashing my head against the beam.  The place was simply full of moon and green elves…many of whom appeared to members of the guard, taking a rest after work.  The silence was resounding, as all bars sounds ceased, and I felt eyes upon me.  Angrily, I moved to leave…I do not like to be stared at…except by lovely women, of course…  Sylthas and Tobias stopped me.

"Give them time, Keledrial," Sylthas urged.  "You are very unusual…and just think, when King Zaor was younger, I am certain he got the very same reception."  

"Besides…you've dealt with winged dwarves, paladins of Tyr, and shadow thieves…our own people should hardly be a deterrent," Tobias added.  Talking began to resume, quietly, and I felt my ears burning, knowing that the conversations were all about me.

At that moment, a pair of moon elven guards approached.  Their faces were familiar to me, remembered from childhood.  They greeted Sylthas.

"Who is this, Sylthas?" one of them, then asked, getting to the point.  Finally I put a name to the face.  His name was Elynwyd, and his friend was Ryhvain.  They had both been among the children who'd tormented me when I'd been younger.  

"What, you do not remember me, Elynwyd?  Ryhvain?  I am saddened to know you forgot me so easily.  After all, you did laugh so when you dumped that pot of black ink into my hair, Elynwyd…it took me months before it washed out entirely...but I am certain that you really did trip, as you said.  And then there was the incident with the honey that was poured all over the bench I always sat on…I am certain it was an accident, just as you claimed, Ryhvain," I stated pleasantly.  I once said that I had not forgotten the names of any of the elven children, nor had I forgotten the things they had done…and I meant it.  I was gratified to see their faces contort in confusion, and then dawning realization.  Unfortunately, Sylthas interrupted before I got to see horror…

"This is my cousin, Keledrial…you both remember him, of course."

"Didn't Keledrial die?" Elynwyd asked, trying not to stare.  

"No…he was just lost to us…but now he's come home," Sylthas stated.

"You can't be Keledrial…Keledrial Nightstar was such a weakling!" Ryhvain exclaimed.

       "Ah…and you are as tactful as ever, Ryhvain," I stated in response, my hands fairly itching to deck him.  I noted that both Tobias and Sylthas moved slightly, blocking me from an easy strike.  

       "Oh relax," I muttered.  "Short of dwarves and goblins, I never hit those who are smaller than me."   I was gratified when I looked over to them to see them fuming over the comment.  I half expected to them to attack me then, at my snide remark, however, I was disappointed when they did not.  They both backed down, Elynwyd saying,

       "Well…I suppose we should…welcome…you back, then."  He certainly did not sound as though he meant it. 

       The rest of the evening was quiet enough, although I hated knowing I was being stared at, knowing that I was being talked about.  And I found that elven wine, for all its vaunted reputation did not have nearly the kick of a mug of Moonshaes moonshine…but it does taste considerably better, though.

       Well, it has happened, and sooner than I expected. A summons arrived at the house yesterday, from the moonstone palace.  The Queen asks for mine, and my family's presence at the palace.  We are to leave, later this afternoon.  Everything around the house has been rather hectic, especially with the tailors flitting about.  They are in a rush to finish my new clothing before the meeting.  My parents, upon my third day back, ordered Sera and I new wardrobes, most of which is as yet unfinished.  When I tried to pay for the things, however, my parents refused.  The reply was that they were my parents, and were quite capable of providing for me.  It is rather irritating to be treated like a child, once more, when it is not what I am.  They would not even let me pay for Sera's garments, even though, by their own excuse, I am **her** parent, and more than capable for providing for her as well.  They would not hear of it.

       So I spent most of the morning, being poked and prodded with pins, and needles, being forced to dress and undress, and being attended by servants as I bathed (they simply would not leave, even though I assured them I didn't need any aid).  I was forced to sit still as my hair was trimmed, and braided into an "acceptable" style.  The tailors kept complaining that they weren't used to making such "huge" clothing…as though I was some giant or something.  My father was nearby the whole time, overseeing the process…nodded when things met his approval, and glaring when they didn't.  

Finally, when Sera came running in from wherever she'd been hidden away, naked, and covered in soap…looking as though she'd just escaped from a bath, and crying that she didn't want her hair cut, I expressed my annoyance.

       "ENOUGH!" I shouted, startling everyone.  

       "Keledrial, there is no need to shout…it's vulgar.  And there isn't time to take a break…not if you want to be presentable when you meet the queen," my father stated.  

       " I have met the queen before, and I will not meet her again, looking like a damned peacock!" I stated, pulling off the garish tunic the tailors were working on.  

       "And as for Sera,** I** will finish her bath, and she does not need her hair cut.  And if you do not want her whining we go to the palace, she needs to have a nap."  

       "Keledrial," my mother began, as she came into the room, her sleeves rolled up, the front of her tunic wet and soap-covered.  

       "Stop!" I held up my hand, suddenly feeling crowded.  "I know what is best for me, **and** what is best for **my** daughter!  I can't breathe with all these people in here!"  And with that I strode from the room.

       I managed to calm down as I finished Sera's bath.  She was fine in the water, so long as she was allowed to play, splashing the water about, and so forth.  Since I didn't really think she would sit still long enough to have her hair cut…and not that it was really necessary anyhow, I merely brushed it out, and braided it, in the style that Ruathym women tended to wear, with one braid hanging over each ear.  I redid my own hair as well, seeing as the braid they'd put in was so tight, my head was beginning to ache.  I tried to make Sera take a nap, but she was far too excited by all the goings on, so we went for a walk in the house gardens for a bit.  

       By the time we went back inside, it was nearly time to depart for the palace.  I was given disapproving looks from my parents, looks which I pointedly ignored.  I dressed in the clothing, which had been finished; a dark blue, spider-silk tunic, interwoven with silver threads, and embroidered with my house symbol, the eight-pointed star.  Matching boots, pants, and a jacket were provided as well, and by the time I was dressed, I was covered completely from the neck down, and still felt like a damned peacock.  I was used to wearing the sleeveless tunics that Ingrid had always made for me, so it felt odd to have my arms covered…but I suppose that my parents did not want my "human-style" tattoos showing.  

       Sera wore an outfit that almost matched mine.  They'd wanted to make her dress even fancier than my clothing, but I'd argued, and convinced them that with Sera, simpler was better.  So she wore a blue over-dress, with a cloth-of-silver underdress, stockings, and a pair of blue-dyed slippers.  Someone had taken her braids out while I dressing, and most likely worked a cantrip to cause her hair to curl up into blue ringlets, tied up with a large blue ribbon.  Sera looked quite po0uty about the whole thing, and I sympathized.  I certainly never recall that there had been this much pomp and ceremony about going to meet the queen when I was younger, but then again much has changed, and I do tend to remember things in a different light than they may have happened.

       After being given a critical once over, we departed for the palace.  I happened to glance at my reflection on the way out the door, only to be startled, for I did not recognize myself.  The familiar Keledrial was gone, replaced with some one could only be described as an elven noble.  Yet for all that my appearance had changed, the expression had not…I felt that I should have been happy at the change…that I was becoming, once more, what I was meant to be, and yet I was not happy.  I felt more as though my life was out of my control…that I was being forced into a mold that I no longer fit.  Perhaps I am only being perverse, though.  It is possible that I must give this all more time…that it will become familiar once more…after all this is what I wanted, wasn't it? 

       Sera stared in awe, as we entered the moonstone palace, and I too felt a bit of that same emotion.  As a child I'd always taken the palace for granted, but with my older, and more experienced perspective, I had to admit that there was nothing like it in the whole of the world.  We went in through the main gate of the palace, which is made out of solid gold.  The towers of the palace rose above us, a vast gleaming mix of gold, silver, and white.  

       My parents walked through familiar corridors, leading the way.  We passed many open rooms, and groups of nobles as we walked through the soaring hallways, and galleries.  We stopped when we neared the throne room, my parents speaking briefly with the one of the queen's seneschals.  We were told that the Queen preferred a more informal meeting, and were led out to the grounds of the palace, into one of the gardens.  

       The garden was one of the crystal gardens, a beautiful place where large, crystal grew from the ground, some towering in height, higher than the trees.  This particular garden was all of pale blue and green crystals, with beds of flowers planted to match.

       We were announced by our attendant as a small pavilion, and the queen came into view as we rounded a corner of hedge.  

       Queen Amlaruil was seated on a cushioned chair, embroidered with a design of the sea.  Dressed in a flowing gown of multi-hued gray silk, her coppery hair was loose about her shoulders, a simple circlet of silver around her brow.  I could not help staring for a moment at her…she was as beautiful as I remembered…in this my memory had not failed me.  And yet, to see her without King Zaor…it was like imagining the sun without the moon.  But there had been a change in her, and I saw it immediately.  

Her smile was gone.  

That very realization made me feel ill…how could anyone have dared to steal the Queen's smile?   And she seemed almost ethereal, as though she was not truly part of this world.  My heart nearly cracked with grief for her…her own grief muted, but still a palpable thing.

       My parents approached her first, both bowing deeply, and speaking in low tones.  I could not hear their words, but I knew it was about myself that they were speaking.  I watched closely hardly able to tear my gaze away for more than a moment, and yet at the same time, I dreaded what was coming.  I dreaded having to explain to the queen all the things I had to explain…the ways I had failed the people.  And then she called me, her voice hardly more than a whisper, causing me to remember my earlier shouting, and mentally agree with my father over the vulgarity of it all.

       "Come, Keledrial.  I would speak with you," she said.  I moved forward, even as my parents stepped to the side.  I bowed slowly to her, my heart pounding cruelly.  I met her eyes only once, but broke contact quickly.  I felt her watching me…

       "You have changed…more than I ever would have thought possible," she began, her voice so quiet…so devoid of the joy I once heard in it.  "I have heard it told that you have returned to us…that you were being kept in a human culture, the time you were from us.  Tell, me if this is true, young Nightstar?"   

       "It…it is true my queen…that and more," I felt then to my knees, at her feet, head bowed, as familiar anguish coursed through me.

       "Please my queen, I beg your forgiveness.  I have failed you, and all the people," I confessed.  

       "How have you failed us?" The queen asked.  

       "I was not here in Evermeet's hour of most dire need…so much a fool that I could not find my way home.  And further, I learned too late of the woe in Evereska, when I was on the mainland, too caught up was I in human troubles.  I do not know that my meager presence would have made any difference, but in not being here, I have failed you, and for that I can never forgive myself," I explained.  She was silent for a long moment, a moment that seemed an eternity before it ended. 

       "You are forgiven, Keledrial, for the crime you feel you have committed. I feel I must say that I am glad you were not here, in a way, for had you been even now Evermeet might be one more warrior short. Yet, I tell you now, that we are glad to have you back."  Though her forgiveness meant much to hear, I still do not feel that I deserved it. I wanted to look up, wanted to express my sorrow over the loss of the King, but I could not…not knowing that it might bring further grief to her to speak of what had happened.  Then, as the awkward silence grew, for I could not bring myself to speak, Sera interrupted. 

       "Daddy?" she asked, "Who's dat?"  

Perhaps I should have mentioned that she has taken to calling me "daddy," after hearing my sisters and brother both referring to our father in such a term.  I gather that Kedriel also said something to Sera on the topic, and for several days now, she has begun using the term…still, as much as I like to be recognized for what I feel that I am to her, I miss "Kele."  As always, I cannot refuse Sera anything…not even an answer in the presence of my Queen.  Even though it had been explained to her earlier where she would be going, and whom we were to meet with, one could not expect her to remember such important things yet.  She is, after all, just a baby. I looked over to her, straightening up, and holding my hand out for her to take.  

       "This is the Queen of the people, Sera, Queen Amlaruil."  Sera tried the name out as best she could, shortening it a bit.

       "Am…ril?" She questioned.  I nodded.  

       "Who is this little one?" The Queen asked suddenly.  I glanced up to her, and drew courage as I saw a hint of a smile in the Queen's eyes.

       "She is Kaithseraly Nightstar, your highness…and she is my daughter."

       "A child…you are so young," the queen stated, watching Sera.  

       "She is adopted, your highness…and a bit unusual," I began.

       "How so?" The queen asked.

       "I found Sera shortly after her mother had been slain by several red dragons, my queen. I have cared for her since then.  Sera is, you see, a silver dragon."  At that, I pulled the ties at the shoulder of Sera's dress, and told her to show the queen her true form.  Sera, who had not changed into her draconic form for many months, happily shifted her shape back to her real form. She had, I noted, gained several more inches in length and height.  She flapped her wings, and hovered in the air for a moment or two.  

       "Look, Daddy!" she called, as adorable in dragon form, as elven.  I let her flap about a bit, then beckoned her down, my heart soothed, by her mere presence.  If nothing else, Sera alone, made my time in the human world worth all the effort, pain, and suffering.  To my surprise, and horror, Queen Amlaruil looked for a moment, as though she was about to cry.

       "We lost so many of the dragons during the attack," she whispered.  Before I had even a moment to begin apologizing, Sera veered off her course, and fluttered over to the Queen.  She hovered in the air, by Queen Amlaruil for a moment, and smiled.

       "Don' cry.  I love you," Sera said, finally, using the same words she had when she'd seen me upset. The Queen smiled at that, and I felt the tenseness within me subside.  

       "Come child, sit here," she said to Sera, gesturing to another chair, nearby.  Sera daintily flapped over, and seated herself on the chair.  Hardly paying much attention, my daughter was absorbed with her own tail, as she said,

       "Hi, I'm Sera!"   

       "Indeed you are," the Queen replied.  Then she looked back to me.  

       "Keledrial, come here.  I wish you to speak with me a while, and tell me of what has happened to you since you were lost to us."  It was a demand that I could not refuse.  The queen dismissed my parents, and proceeded to listen and question me carefully about much of what had occurred since I left Evermeet.  The Queen is not the kind of person I would ever lie to, or even attempt to keep information from.  To every question she asked, I answered truthfully. And after I spoke with her, I felt somewhat better…knowing that as long as she was in this world, that things would somehow work out right…and further, that my troubles were a small thing when compared with hers.  I shall always remember what she said as Sera and I took our leave…

"Welcome Home Keledrial and Sera Nightstar." 

                                                       Keledrial Nightstar

Much time has passed since last I wrote in these pages… years in fact, since my return to Evermeet.  I cannot help thinking about the day I came back, the elf who spoke with me at the river…and of Lita…how is it that two people, both so very different, could guess the same thing about me…a thing that I never would have guessed or believed for myself.  And yet for all that, they were right…and I was wrong…I do not belong here, any longer.  I do not belong on Evermeet.

       To admit such a statement is harder than I can possibly describe, and yet I say it with conviction I am fast beginning to feel…and feel stronger with each passing day.  To understand this conclusion, I suppose that I must explain the goings on of the past years, and the changes within me, that have brought me to this.

       And perhaps it seems strange that it has been so long since I wrote, especially seeing as Evermeet is not Ruathym…here books are a thing to treasure, and parchment and ink abound.  So why have I not written?  The answer is simpler than one might think…I find that I have no time, and further, had no inclination to do so.  For a time I convinced myself it was not necessary any longer.  My people knew of me, knew the truth of what had happened to me…there was no need to further tell a known story, was there?  And there were so many people to talk to…people who would listen, and not condemn, and for a time that also stayed my hand.  But I find that all my excuses aside, I have always used this journal as a way to work out my own thoughts and problems, and to recall things which have faded from memory.  It helps me, and I have once more reached a point in my life where I need that aid.  

       To understand what has brought me to this, I will explain what has happened since that day I spoke with the queen.

       What began the first week of my return only began to grow worse.  My arguments with my father grew louder.  I did not agree with him on many topics…nor did he agree with me.  I love my father dearly, but he has his ways of hurting me, all the same.  He is not like Brander, who would strike me if I misbehaved, or punish me with work at the forge.  My father cuts with his words.  

       I told him that I wished to continue my work in metals…I knew full well that there are many elven smiths in Evermeet…perhaps some of the greatest smiths in the world…and yet though my father holds the greatest respect for those men and women, he refused to allow me, his son, to consider such a profession.  I tried to explain that I was good with metal, that I had learned much, that working at the forge calmed me, oft times when little else could.  He would not have it…not for me, the work of the commoner he said.  I love my father, but I have come to realize just what a "noble" he is.  Nightstar is an old house, you see, but Hawksong is older still, and my father had been raised with the belief that older meant more important…a belief which he has, I am sorry to say, passed on to me.  And yet I do not hold all of his prejudices.  I wanted to do what I wanted to do, and his distain be damned!  He reminded me of my talent, my gift for the weave, adding that not to pursue such would be the worst sort of waste, especially after all that Evermeet lost in the attacks.  I reminded him that smiths, and warriors were also lost…and asked why he was so determined that I focus everything on but one of my skills.  He could not give me a satisfactory answer.  I accused him of being as narrow minded as the gold elves, and as stubborn as a dwarf.  It was weeks before we spoke again.

       In the end, it was my mother who aided my cause.  Mother and Aunt Halaema have ever been more open-minded, although that maybe  due to, in part, their having to assume the leadership of house Nightstar at such a young age.  Mother spoke with father, and the result was thus: if it was a wizard, warrior, smith, and father I wished to be, than so be it.  She warned me though, that it would not be easy, for my attention would be split in that many directions.  She added further, that whatever I decided to do, I would not be allowed to neglect my responsibilities as the heir to my house.  

       I was determined to prove that I could do all of those things, and do them so well that I would dazzle my family.  The need to prove myself, not only to them, but to the rest of my people as well, fairly burned within me. 

       You see, I learned quickly that even being the heir of my house was not enough deterrent to keep tongues from wagging.  I soon learned that I was the source of a great deal of conversation, and speculation…among the commoners, and my fellow nobles alike.  The rumors reached my ears eventually, for Tobias, if nothing else, can gather information.  Sylthas, being my cousin, also heard many of these rumors from friends of his…people who were "worried" for him.  It did not take much effort to convince Tobias or Sylthas to spill what they knew.

       The people thought I was insane…and if not, certainly on the verge of it.  I was not trusted…for while my height was great it was not so uncommon…but my breadth…a different tale all together.  They feared that I had been alternately broken or corrupted by the humans who'd taken care of me for so long…and any defense of the Ruathym on my part only fueled their speculations.  

Further, among the nobles, I was seen as lacking in judgment.  Word had gotten out of my association with Elaith Craulnober, and for some reason, the people were inclined to believe the tales told about him.  In that, I found myself disgusted by my fellows…and did not hesitate to defend Elaith…again, making me unpopular.

It seemed that, after so long, my great skill with magic was forgotten.  After all I was no longer the tragic, sickly boy to be pitied, but someone who looks dangerous…some one strong.

I began work at my chosen professions as soon as possible, for I have learned to dislike idleness.  I was simultaneously apprenticed to a wizard, a smith, and a weapon master…for training.  Eager to learn, I threw myself into the task, spending much of my daylight hours so engaged.  All of my spare time went to Sera, who grew at a rapid rate.  

       At first my instructors were "patient" with me.  They were all quick to say that they understood I had gone through a terrible "ordeal."  

       Things got worse from there.  I once said that much of what I knew of my own culture was learned from books I had read…and that it more true than I could have imagined.  Having had to so rarely interact with others, I hardly knew how to do so…worse, I was ill equipped to do so.  I grew quickly frustrated at the slow pace of learning that my "teachers" set forth for me.  They, all three of them, claimed that the way I had learned things was the wrong way…N'Tel-Quessir way…the "not-people" way.  

       The smith told me I had to relearn my entire technique… that I worked too quickly, often lamenting that he had to undo the damage wrought upon me by the teachings of the Ruathym.  The weapon master was hardly much better.  A member of the Evermeet army, the first thing he tried to do was force me to give up the use of great axe and great sword both.  He claimed that neither weapon was appropriate for a Teu-tel quessir of noble birth such as myself.  When he gave me a long sword to use, however, I merely laughed at him.  It was such a small, light weapon in my hands, that even considering wielding it seemed like a jest.  My instructor did not take my laughter well.  He worked me mercilessly, informing me that if I wished to become a warrior, that I must learn the use of all weapons…even ones I considered beneath me…all spoken in a tone of voice that suggested I was naught but some green, child who'd never seen combat, or spilt blood.  

       Needless to say, my ability to enter a battle rage was met with a great deal of debate.  The members of the army and guard who knew of me, had met, or seen me fight were spilt in their opinions of such an ability.  On the one hand, there were many who believed that I would be a great asset to Evermeet, and the warriors here.  To be able to fight without feeling pain, was a great thing they said.  And my strength…many of them asked just what the humans had fed/done to me to have granted me such power…asking further what they could do to achieve such.  These were the ones, who despite everything, I would almost call friends.  

       On the other side, however, were the dissenters.  These, my own instructor among them, were horrified.  A rage was nothing more that a deadly, and dangerous loss of control, they said.  My skill with weapons was crude, they added, although they were many among them who fell to me in the practice ring…barbarian style or no.  And furthermore, I would be a detriment to the army, they stated…a danger to my own allies in any real battle.  I gather that they either did not believe that I had been an adventurer, that I could have possibly fought, and defeated powerful enemies…or that they used it as more ammunition against me.  

       My wizardry teacher was somewhat better than the other two…as she certainly could find little enough fault in my magic-using style, which was most assuredly elven, as taught to me by the wizards of the towers of Evermeet.   Nor could she fins fault with my skill…my hands never faltered at a spell, and magic rose easily within me, so very much a part of me, that I could control it with ease.  In this alone, the people could find no fault in me.  I was a wizard…in was in my blood, as surely as I had been blessed with the skill by the Seldarine themselves, or so it was said.  In truth, it was not my skill in magic that got me in trouble in this particular case…it was my relationship with my "teacher." 

       There was a time, not so very long ago, that I believed myself to be undesirable…especially by women…I once thought that even the women of the people would find nothing in me to desire, for I am so different from most elven men. I no longer believe that.  However, in the case of my wizardry instructor, it way not my physical appearance, but rather my wisdom that was lacking.

       I quickly learned, that in magic, I was already her equal, if not her better, and yet she tried to convince me that I still lacked instruction.  It became quickly apparent to me that the woman had convinced my parents to give my training over to her with fancy words, words that my parents, who know little of wizardry, did not truly understand. She did not wish to instruct me in magic, but in…other matters.  

       Her name was Lady Valanora Elwystl…not a noble, but not a commoner.  She was Ar-Tel Quessir, a gold elf…and not all that skilled in magic to begin with.  Her hands faltered at spells that I had mastered long ago…and yet she treated me as though it was I who was unskilled.  I confess it took me some time to realize just what she about.  At first she seemed innocent enough, laying her hands upon my shoulders, while I studied...but it grew from there, until even I, oblivious as I can be at times, knew what she wanted.  

       It was not like Rosaleen, whose flirtatious smiles, and gentle touches made me feel wanted…Lady Valanora is much older than I am…in fact, she is old enough to be my grandmother, and although she does not look it, I know this to be true.  And I suppose that among the people, such a difference in age is not usually such an important matter, yet I found the very idea to be somehow…wrong.  Furthermore, I felt no attraction for her.  To some she may have seemed pretty, her long black hair, and green eyes were characteristic of the Ar-Tel Quessir…her faces was fair…but as I said I felt nothing for her, save perhaps irritation.  My complaints to my parents about the woman's lack of magic skill went unheeded.  After all, I had already proved that I knew only the human ways of fighting and forging…somehow, they assumed it was the same with my casting abilities…they having, conveniently, forgotten that I had already gained the core skills of casting long before I left Evermeet.

       So I was forced to spend afternoons with Lady Valanora, learning nothing.  Finally, I grew tired of her unwanted advances and told her so.  Her green eyes narrowed dangerously for a moment, but then the expression was gone, and she returned to be pleasant.  I assumed that would be the end of it.

       A few days later, Lady Valanora declared we would work on alchemical solutions, and potions.  In an almost acidic tone, she added, that while my skill in shaping the weave was formidable, my alchemical knowledge was lamentable.  Since I had to agree with her assessment, I continued on finally agreeing to learn something she had to teach.  

       Strangely, she did seem to know quite a bit about potions and the like, and I was glad to be finally doing something…and in that vein, I was caught off my guard, when she finally dropped the other shoe, so to speak.

       She had me work on a potion that she claimed would allow me insight into a given situation, a potion of clairvoyance that could be made without using magic, she claimed.  I was not allowed to look a book while I worked, for she dictated the components to me, and how to properly combine.  Since it was a thing she'd done before, I thought little of it.  When I was finished, she told me a riddle, and said that I was to drink the potion, and see if I gained the desired effect, which would aid me in figuring out the riddle.  I quaffed the drink, unthinkingly, even though, in retrospect, some of the components for the potion had seemed wrong somehow.  A moment later I began to feel dizzy.  My vision and hearing altered, reminding me of the few times I have been very, very drunk.  I vaguely recall Lady Valanora watching me, a triumphant smile on her face…and feeling very confused.

       The next coherent memory I have is of lying on the floor of the alchemy lab-room.  My clothing was scattered about…and I was wearing none of it.  The…"Lady" Valanora was seated beside me, wearing only a smug, and sated expression.  

       "There now…that wasn't so bad was it?  I'd say you quite enjoyed it, Keledrial."  She ran her fingers lightly along my thigh as she spoke.

       I felt sick…both physically, and emotionally, as I realized what had happened.  My head ached, as though I was in throes of the worst sort of hangover…and the aching I felt in several areas of my body lead me to the truthful conclusion of what had occurred.  The "Lady" Valanora had drugged me to gain what she wanted:  my…"willing" service.  I'd been…forced into having sex with a woman that I felt nothing for…and worse, had already said "no" to.  I might have laughed at the justice…the irony of it all, had I not felt so terribly sick and ashamed at the time.  

       I jerked away from her, managing my very best death-glare.  I dressed as quickly as I could manage, all the while she tried to convince me that I had enjoyed it…that she couldn't understand why I was acting the way I was… Finally, when I had all my things and had gained a modicum of coherence, I moved to leave.

       "Come now, Keledrial," Valanora said one last time.  "Why are you acting this way…I know you wanted this as much as I did…you just needed a little encouragement.  I understand that you're shy…why wouldn't you be after the horrid things that you've gone through?"

       "Shy?!" I choked, suddenly.  "I said "no"…that was not shyness!  I did not desire what you have just forced me to do!  And I swear that if you ever come near me again, you will not survive the encounter, as Corellon is my witness!" I added, in a cold, furious tone.  I slammed out of her house a second later, and have never returned.  

       When I returned home, I found I could not speak to anyone about what had happened.  Indeed, until now, I have not even been able to write of the experience.  I was so angry at myself for being so foolish…at allowing myself to be so used. I felt sickened by the woman's deviousness, wondering how she could have thought to be able to justify her actions.  I did not want anyone to know.  I locked myself in my room for nearly a ten-day, unable to enter reverie or eat as my mind went over and over what had happened.  I spoke with no one, though my parents, family, and friends alike tried their best to draw me out from my solitude.  I used my spells and my silence to keep them at bay. I could not ever bear to face Sera…and they did try to use her to bring me out.  Her tears were heart breaking, but I did not want to see even her…I felt that filthy, as though I might dirty my own daughter by seeing her.  

It took me time as I worked things over in my mind. To some degree I thought I deserved what had occurred.  After all, I had once raped someone…Penelope, a victim who did not deserve what had happened to her.  Mayhap it was my final penance for the crime…to have a similar act forced upon me…for though a drug had been used, I had been no more willing in my mind, or heart, than Penelope had been.                            
       At other times, I raged about the injustice of it all, destroyed items in my room to satisfy my anger. After all, I wondered…when would enough be enough?  Hadn't I managed yet, with all I'd done and gone through, to pay for my crime?  Or would it continue?  

As I said, it took nearly a week of solitude to calm down…When I reached the point that I felt calm enough to face others again, and clean enough to leave my room, I did so, but not after vowing not to speak of what had happened.  I just couldn't let anyone know the truth.  So in the end, I told them nothing, though they asked and badgered endlessly over what had happened to so upset me.  I knew that they knew something had happened involved Valanora, for I threatened violence if they tried to make me go near her again.  But try as they might, I do not think that anyone managed to find out just what had happened.

Something changed in me, after that…and I cannot say it was for the better, or whether it was for worse, either.  Corellon knows that I do not handle adversity well.  I grew angry once more, as I had when I was among the Ruathym…angry at my fate, and angry at many around me.  I took my aggression out on the soldiers I sparred with, and on the metal at the forge.  I ignored the chastising of my parents, and remaining instructors, ignored the questions of Tobias and Sylthas, who tried hard to help me…

I saved my gentleness for Sera, and my younger siblings, for I was determined not to frighten them.  I wanted them to grow older, and never know fear or rage or shame, as I did.  My brother sees to have developed an attachment for me, for he began to take to following me about whenever I am home...mimicking my mannerisms.  This has not gone over well with Sera however, who does not like any challenges to my affection.  

The most trouble I have with the little ones is Sera and Kedriel's arguments…which usually end in fistfights…and my sisters, and little cousin are always flitting about, giggling… although I've noticed they all seem to have taken a definite liking to Tobias.  They tend to sigh whenever his back is turned, and flutter their eyelashes, and giggle whenever he is around.  They tend to ask about the mainland, although I suspect their curiosity is more about Tobias himself, than his stories.  I do not mind it, so long as it remains the way it is: girlish infatuations, with nothing reciprocated.  I do not even want to have to think about the idea of one of my friends, and one of my little sisters…

And yet, when I watch the girls attempt to work their wiles on Tobias, I began to wonder…were girls taught to be devious from a young age…or did it just come naturally to them?  And in either case, would my sisters, or may the gods forbid, my Sera grow up, and act the same way to other men that Valanora had acted towards me?  The idea was so repellent, I could not allow myself to ponder it long…but as time went on, the insidious thoughts crept in more and more frequently.  And I found myself beginning to believe it.  After all, I had always thought elven women to be the fairest and most virtuous of all women…and yet I was began to wonder.  All my encounters with elven women not of my own blood, save for the queen herself, had gone badly.  I once mentioned that all I really knew of the people had come from books I had read, and I began to wonder if all the much-touted superiority of the elven race was merely the writer's opinion…for thus far, I have found that the people can be every bit as intolerant, and cruel as many of the other races I have encountered.

Time went on and my frustration and anger grew.  My outlets were fewer than they had been on the mainland.  I took to riding Lashrael more and more often.  The beast loves to be able to run, and I let him, savoring the sensation of near-danger the act gives me. In fact, just prior to deciding to write once more, after such a length of time has passed, I was out, galloping Lashrael through the Moon field, just outside Leuthilspar.  I have grow quite good at riding, now that my fear is gone…and Lashrael does so love to startle the moon horses that graze there.  We have gotten in trouble numerous times with our antics, but I pay them little mind.  There are those among the people who made up their mind about me long ago, and I care little to hear their whining.  I think they are just angry that I have allowed Lashrael to roam as he wills, and as such, he has impregnated no few mares of "pure-breed."   I suppose it upsets them to have the blood of such "perfect" elven horses mixing with a beast so common as hot-tempered Lashrael.  But as I said, I do not care…I come to enjoy the stir I cause with my actions…it is something, at least, that lets me know I am alive still.

Yet, riding has not been my only outlet…there have been others…but along with them has come a sense of apathy…mostly towards myself…but unfortunately, towards others as well, to some degree.

I shall tell you what I mean, and though it may seem unconscionable, I find that I have trouble caring.

You see, shortly after my…trouble with Valanora, I decided to test a theory… I meant to try to find even one elven woman, not of my blood, who cared more about who I was, rather than what I could give her…one way or another.  I wanted to find one girl, who was not out to see what I looked like with my clothing off, or cower at me if I glared, or wonder how their name would sound with a Lady in front and Nightstar at the end.  As of yet I have not found her…but as they have offered, so I have taken… and taken, regardless of who she was or what she wanted.

It seems, though, that there are no elven women who meet any of the requisites.  Most want only a night in my bed…or two or three, sometimes.  Many even broke relationships with others to have this night…or day.  I give them what they want…and in the past decade and a half, I have had sex with so many women, I cannot remember them all.  Needless to say, such behavior has not made me a favorite among my fellow males…nor have my parents been happy about this "lack of propriety" I have shown.  I care not.  To my fellows, I am doing a service.  This way, when they find their "ladies" in my arms, they will know that the woman will not be faithful to them.  It is better that they learn such a thing early on, rather than later.

There are three kinds, I have learned…well, perhaps four types of women.  For the fourth, I must say their numbers are few.  They are the rare women of faithfulness, loyalty, and love.  They are women like my mother, and the queen…and so very rare, I am beginning to think.  They are the kind of woman I will do my best to be certain that Sera grows into.  Then there are the other three types.

The first group is the jades, and the thrill-seekers.  They are the ones who seek me out for a bit of fun and adventure…the ones looking only for sex, or stories about what it was like to live among the "dreaded humans." They are almost laughable, but since I must alleviate my own boredom I take what they have to offer.  

Then there is the second group: the women who are out to gain…be it my title or my wealth.  They ply me with sweet words, telling me how brave and wonderful I am, blinking their eyelashes at me in a nauseating fashion.  When these slip into my bed, it is always with the hope that I will "honor" them with marriage.  I take what they offer, and then tell them that their ploys were for naught…

Which leads me to the third type of woman…a type which I, unfortunately, have been forced to associate with…

Women who are like my betrothed.

Yes, that is right, betrothed.  Apparently, the contract between our families was drawn up a long time ago, when I was but a child.  When my "wicked" ways started to become more apparent, evidenced by the angry or weeping girls, and often, their furious lovers, husbands, or fathers started showing up at Nightstar mansion, my parents thought to stop me by breaking the news to me.  

I am betrothed, and have been since I was five years old, to a girl I have never met.  For a time, the shock of knowing my marriage is all but arranged was enough to slow my activities.  I demanded to meet my future bride, adding that contract or not, I would not have a wife who did not love Sera, and would not be faithful to me.  So they arranged it.

Her name is Loreleiana Moonflower…a distant cousin of the Queen, herself.  That fact alone made her a" worthy" match for me, according to my parents.  But from the moment I met her, I knew that I did not wish to wed her, but I cannot, as yet, come up with a legitimate reason to break the betrothal.

You see, Loreleiana is a beautiful girl…her face is fair as the queen's.  She is dainty and small, and everything about her is feminine.  When we met for the first time, her eyes were downcast, and at first, I merely thought it to be maidenly shyness…or perhaps she was also nervous about meeting her betrothed for the first time.  But then I saw her eyes…like Queen Amlaruil, she has perfect, sky flower colored eyes…and when she looked to me, I saw that those eyes were filled with fear…fear of me.  Loreleiana, I have been told, is a gentle girl…she has never been away from Evermeet.  In the few conversations I have held with her, I have garnered only that she is terrified of me, and what I am…that my size, and mannerism evince nothing but loathing in her, and that were there any way she could do so, and keep her family's honor, she would leave me at the very altar, and wed with the lowest commoner, instead.  And she is not the only woman I have met who seems so inclined.  

Needless to say, I have avoided her as best I can in the past years.  I have heard, however, that he family is growing impatient.  They want the contract fulfilled, and think that my parents have had more than enough time to make certain that I am properly elven…that all the damage done me by my "unfortunate associations" has been unwrought.  On that front, I have little idea what to do, short of open rebellion…though I fear it may come to that, for I will not marry some quivering girl who loathes the sight of me, and would most likely faint away if I tried to touch her. Besides…Sera does not like her.

Sera…there has been another source of irritation that has been growing in me.  Oh no, not Sera herself…my daughter is the greatest joy I have.  She is so clever, and grows bigger with each passing year.  Though she is still considered young by draconic and elven standards alike, she is no longer a baby.  Her vocabulary has grown, and she is quite capable of carrying on a conversation, and speaking her mind.  In size, her elven form is nearly of a height with a human child, some six or seven years of age.  In her draconic form, however, she is nearly of a height with me, and weighs more than I do.  She is the sweetest child, and always so quick to learn.  She has told me this week that she wishes to be a singer…the week before, it was a soldier, and the week before that, a priestess. I have tried to tell her that she is only a child yet, and has many more decades in which to decide her profession.  She only smiles, and laughs.  But recently, she has begun asking when she will have a mother.  She tells me that since Kedriel has a mother, she believes that she should as well.  Since she has never been denied anything, it is hard to deny her this…but in this case things are far more complicated.  She doesn't seem to understand that I cannot just go out and bring her back a mother…and though I could always follow my parents wishes and wed the simpering Loreleiana, I cannot stomach the thought.  Besides, I know that Loreleiana would never be able to handle a child as spirited as my Sera…nor would Sera want a mother as weak and foolish as Loreleiana…and frankly, I think the silly thing would scream herself to death if I were to marry her, and then tell her she had gained a silver dragon for a daughter.

And yet, I digress…I could go on and on about Sera, for she is my light…but it is the problems caused by having a dragon for a child that I meant to speak of.  

You must understand, that many are the elves in Leuthilspar who barely think me fit company…these same people also number among those who think that such an "unusual" elf as myself should not be allowed to have the care of anything so precious as silver dragon child.  These people also number among those who have tried to convince me to give Sera up…that I am too young, and too incapable of caring for her.  I feel I deserve a bit of credit however, for I did not attack, or kill them outright.  I let them make their speeches about responsibility and so on…then I would calmly ask Sera if she wanted to go away from me, and live with others.  Every time, her answer has been "no," and that is when I turn back to them, and state that Sera did not wish to go with them.  I let them know in no uncertain terms what would happen should they try to force me to give her up, or take her away from me…and each time, I believe that I was forceful enough that they would learn that "no" truly meant "no."  And yet they persist.  And as my anger grows, my restlessness grows, I feel more and more inclined to violence, though I use restraint.  After all, how would you feel if strangers continued to approach you, with the sole purpose of removing your child from you because they felt you were not worthy of her?

       So, I have explained much of what is wrong with me, and with Evermeet, in reference to myself.  Please, do not misunderstand, though.  I love Evermeet, and the people here. And there have been many among the people who have made my stay tolerable...even enjoyable. 

There is Sylthas, my cousin, whom has proven himself to be a far better person than I ever expected of him as child.  He goes out of his way to try to involve me in things he considers fun.  He tries to defuse arguments between not only myself and my father, but myself and his father as well.  You see, like my parents, my uncle Arient believes that my behavior is unacceptable, and unbefitting of my station.  I am, or so I have been informed, worse than the prince Lamruil ever was.  Uncle Arient seems to be nervous that I might drag Sylthas down with me, into the depths of debauchery and trouble making.  Little does dear uncle Arient know, that Sylthas is nearly as bad as I am, only he conceals it much better, under a face of guileless innocence that his parents, amazingly enough, fall for every time.  It is all I can do to keep from laughing, as he tells them that he is retiring early, so that he might study, and better contemplate how he can best fulfill his role in the family…when in reality, it is so he can sneak out and go to one of the many parties held by the younger and more dissolute nobles among us.

Mother and Father, for all my complaints about father, have been very understanding as well.  The only problem is that they tend to use my youth and "ordeal" as an excuse for my actions…both seem incapable of believing that I am doing this out frustration.  Father has drawn me aside on a number of occasion to say that he, too, had been a bit wild in his youth…not that he is overly old, mind you, and he knows that there are some things that I have to do…he just wishes I would be a little more quiet about doing them.  

Mother, on the other hand, seems to think I am doing this for attention, that I am jealous of the time she spends with my younger siblings.  Perhaps in a way I am, but that is not the only reason.  So she spends a great deal of time with me, trying to make up for "failing" me…her words not mine.  She has taken to sparring with me, with swords…she is usually the winner of such matches, but I think she would not win so much, if I weren't so afraid of hurting her.  After all, her leg is still not completely healed…nor will it ever be, and so I must be careful with my strength.  She tries, though, and I love her dearly for it.

Then there is Tobias who has proven himself to be a friend, after all, although he has often lost potential friends for doing so.  He has wandered about Evermeet and all her splendors during the past years, dragging me along whenever I could find the time.  It was amusing to see him staring wide-eyed at things and places that were commonplace to me.  He would often come up with some story that he was reminded of when he visited the sights, usually an amusing tale about another city he had visited as a child, growing up in a traveling circus. The stories he meant to make me laugh, however, more often than not, had the reverse effect.  He made me think about all that he had seen in his life, even though he is but a few decades older than me.  I have seen so little of what is truly a huge world.  Just thinking of my future makes me feel restless.  As the heir to house Nightstar, you see, it is my duty to wed, to attend court, and to serve in the queen's guard.  Few heirs are ever allowed to leave Evermeet, the privilege of travel and adventure left to younger siblings.  Even the princess Ilryana left Evermeet only once, to my knowledge, and that was for her own protection.    

As much as I love Evermeet, however, spending all of my centuries here…it is unthinkable.

Finally, there is the queen, herself.  You see, even considering everything else, I also have to attend court on a regular basis.  And there are times that the Queen calls her nobles to the palace to visit with her.  I think she does so to get a sense of what things are like outside the palace.  I gather that since King Zaor died, the Queen rarely leaves her home, and so she must call us to her.

I do not mind, however, for there is nothing I would not do for the Queen.  If she, for instance, asked me to never set foot off Evermeet again, I would do it, though it would be hard.  Fortunately, she has not yet given such a command, and I pray to Corellon that she never will.  

I have spoken with the Queen numerous times after the first.  Much of the time it is I who does the bulk of the talking, while she but listens, occasionally asking a question now and then.  I sense that she is trying to get a feel for the person I am , and am becoming.  I cannot doubt that she has heard rumors of my behavior, for it is common talk among my fellow nobles, who also have her ear…yet she has not spoken of any displeasure to me.  She often asks, however, if I am happy, and barring that whether I am content to be home after so long.  I answer her truthfully, that the answer to both is "no."  I have spoken to her of my restlessness…and my anger.  In fact she is the only one I have openly spoken to about my feelings, though I do not doubt that others know…especially Tobias who is well familiar with my moods.  I keep hoping that the Queen will have some words of insight for me, but always her reply is the same…that, in time, all things will work out for the best.   

She has often asked about Elaith, and my association with him.  I sense a further sadness in her when she speaks of him, for Elaith was once her ward, raised my the Queen from infancy after the Craulnober clan was all but destroyed by a drow attack.  She hides her feelings of Elaith, however, and I cannot guess why she asks about him, save that perhaps she wishes to know he is well.  After all, only one of her thirteen children survives to this day: prince Lamruil…and wherever he is, it is not Evermeet.  I have heard rumors that he was sent on an errand for the Queen, of the utmost importance to the people…but beyond that, I know little.

I think, though, that the time is fast approaching when I must make a choice…to stay, or go.  Part of me wants to stay, for there can be no place in all Faerun like Evermeet…and yet, I also know that I am not content here, as I should be.  Perhaps it is the lingering humanness in me.  I think I shall have to speak with my parents…soon.

Tonight, the dance of blades gave me no comfort, so once more I have picked up quill and ink.  Did I ye mention that I have kept up with my sword dancing, and have become better at it than ever I was?  I have gained the skill to dance with fifteen blades…and not small daggers, either.  I have read that only true blade dancers, and blade singers can do better than fifteen…and even then, they are few.  The thing is, I care so little for myself at the moment, that I do not fear the edges of the blades any longer.  Perhaps soon I shall try sixteen blades…mayhap even seventeen.  It matters not, anyhow.  I do not dance for approval, but for the sense of life it gives me.  Sometimes I feel closer to Arvandyr than Evermeet, as of late.  And yet, every time I feel my soul start to move on, I am drawn back…by what, I do not know.  Maybe I am not truly ready to leave this world…but oh, staying is such a trial!  

Even Sera is not enough, on some days to make staying seem important enough.  This may seem harsh, but it is how I feel.  After all…how good can I possibly be for her?  I cannot even put my own life in order…so how am I to raise her to live hers well?  I almost begin to think that it might be better if I gave her up…to someone who knows more about dragons than I.  The idea churns my stomach, but if I am to be good father, I must do what is best for my child, right?  And the truth is, how can I possibly think that I am what is best for her? 

Perhaps you wonder at the renewal of my melancholy…the deepening of it?  So I shall explain.  

Not long after the last time I wrote, I stirred my courage, and spoke to my parents, finally.  I told them that I wished to leave Evermeet…to return to the mainland…perhaps to adventure…at least to see more of the world.  I spoke of my restlessness, and explained that I was not happy.  I thought they would at least listen…consider my wishes. 

How very wrong I was.

Their eyes took on a panicked look, almost the same as they had the first day I was back on Evermeet.  My mother seemed about to cry…strong warrior woman that she is.  And my father immediately shook his head.

"Absolutely not!" he stated, resolutely.  "You have only just come back…you are still settling in.  The last thing you need is to go back to the mainland." He said, with surety.

"What have we not done for you, Keledrial?  What must we do to make you happy?" my mother asked, her voice breaking slightly.  I felt terrible, for a son should never make his mother cry.

"It isn't you," I tried to say. "It 's me.  I just don't fit in here anymore.  There is nothing you can do to make this better."

"You just need more time to adjust," my mother replied, the first tear slipping.

       "I am not adjusting…maybe I never will…mother, please understand, that even as a child, before I ever left here, I did not truly fit in.  It is the way I am, and there is nothing I can do to change that."

       "You need to try a little harder then, Keledrial, because you are not leaving," my father crossed his arms, blue eyes flashing with the onset of temper.  Father, I have noticed, does not like it when things do not go the way he has planned.  As always, my temper flared in response to his.

       "You can't keep me here, you know.  I am 103 years old, for Corellon's sake!" I protested.

       "And you are still a child!  My child, I might add!" He snapped back.  " And as your father, you will obey me!"

       "Valorian…Keledrial, please…don't argue.  Please, baby, give it more time…" my mother pleaded.

       "Gods!" I swore.  "Doesn't it matter to you that I'm not happy?!  I am so tired of being told that I'm a child, that I don't know anything about anything, and that I have… obligations!  Why is it that only nobles seem to have obligations?  Anyone else can do as they like, marry whom they want, and go where they want without worrying who they might offend by the action, and what political ramifications there might be!  And why must I suffer for it?  The Eroth family doesn't even acknowledge that Amlaruil is our queen, for Corellon's sake!  And the Amaquissars are the worst sort of rogues…why do I have to be a bloody paragon!  Other nobles adventure…look at grandfather Cefwyn!  Why is so bad that I want to do the same?!"

       "Your grandfather lost his life adventuring," my father sneered.  "And if the Amaquissars and the Eroths wish to make fools of themselves, that is their choice.  You are a Nightstar!  Your behavior has been atrocious these past years.  You consistently refuse any aid or learning you are offered…always because you know better!  When you stop acting like a child, then I will stop treating you as one…but until that day...a day which your mother and I will decide on, not you…you will remain here, in our home, and fulfill your obligations to the people, and your family, and there will be no more bloody talk about returning the mainland!  You've had your adventures!"   He was shouting by the time he finished. 

       "When you send me to Arvandyr at young age, I hope that will satisfy you, father…then Sylthas…or your precious Kedriel can take my bloody place for good!" I screamed back, and then turned to slam out of the room.  

       The problem was that I cannot just leave Evermeet.  The island is too small, in the scheme of things for one, and the Nightstars and Hawksongs have far to much power to make my leaving easy.  It is not that I didn't try, mind you…I swore I was going to leave that very day…but unfortunately, I could not find a single ship or captain willing to risk my mother's disfavor, or my father's mother, for that matter.  Short of using one of the gates, of which I have absolutely no access to, there is no other way to leave.

       I was in a terrible rage after the argument…and so full of despair, it was almost like physical pain.  Even though the island is large, and the forests and fields, vast…I felt trapped…penned it.  It was like the first winter in Waterdeep, stuck in the tiny room behind the forge.  I didn't know what to do, only that I could not get away.  I felt I had to do something, but did not know what…so I went down to the Green Sword tavern and began to drink…

       I think that at some point the tavern-keeper, Halanaestra, a woman of mixed Sylvan and Moon elven heritage tried to cut me off, but a menacing growl, and a beljuril gem…booty from one of my adventures…sent her away, leaving me to continue my binge.  I drank Elverquisst like water, not bother with ceremony. It was the strongest stuff I could get.  When I finally drank myself into a stupor, an odd thing happened.  

       Now, I cannot say for certain if I was having a vision, or had merely drunk so much that I was hallucinating…but I heard a voice.  It was distinctly masculine in tone, and definitely not someone who was in the room with me.  The words were simple, and I remembered them easily enough.

       "Repair the Fury of Battle."  And I saw and image after that…I watched as it was forged by a human barbarian…not fair like the Ruathym, but dark as the Uthgardt.  I saw the process that was necessary to repair, not only the blade, but the enchantments within it…and the vision faded, leaving me sober, and with all the knowledge I would need.  

       I left the tavern after that, seeking out what I would need.  Understand, that I had spoken before of reforging the blade…when I first returned…but was instantly forbidden to do so.  There is, after all, no set process for repairing artifacts, I was told…and furthermore such a process was always dangerous.

       Yet as I went searching for what I would need, there was no doubt in mind…I knew how to repair it…and there was no way I was going to ignore what very well may have been a divine vision, forbidden or not.

       I found a forge easily enough.  There are many outbuildings on the Nightstar property…and one of them contains an old smithy…apparently one of my ancestors was just as inclined to "peasant-work" as I am.  It only took a few hours to set the place to order, and learn exactly what I would need.  Fortunately, the process required called for magical fire and heat…both were things I could provide, and so I did not need to try to find fuel.  A few of the other necessary items were a little more unusual…the captured breath of a red dragon, a pinch of dust made from the bones of a legendary warrior, a net of woven mithral, the blood of a berserker, and a vial of holy warrior blessed by a priest who is also a warrior for a god of battle.

       Needless to say, this being Evermeet, all of those items could be found somewhere on the island.  Some were a little harder to get hold of, mind you.  For instance, I will not describe just how I managed to get into the Hall of the Ancients to get a pinch of bone dust from Kethryllia Amarallis's' sarcophagus…but let us just say it was hard.  

       The only thing I might have had trouble with would have been the blood…that is of course, were I not what I am…a berserker. 

       Once I had everything I needed, I removed the three pieces of the Fury of Battle from the case I kept in, since Lita gave me the last piece, some seventeen years ago.  The magic in tingled in my hands…dormant, but still there.  All I had to do was repair, and awaken the blade once more.

       I set up my spells carefully, using concealment spells to keep anyone from discerning my whereabouts while I worked.  It did not occur to me not to do as I had been bidden.  Even the thought that doing so might kill me did not deter me any.  It was something to do…once more that thrill of danger that I seemed to need.  I was willing to risk death to see this done…and that was what I did.  

       The actual process was a blur…and time seemed to stop while I worked.  I know that days passed…that I stopped only to eat, and relieve myself…I could not rest…not until I saw the job done.  After five days, my finger ached, and my shoulder and arms were screaming for me to stop…I'd never worked so long or so hard…and yet I knew I was not done.  Determination drove me on…that and something else…every time I thought to stop, I felt a gentle urging…whenever I thought I might falter, I would see the vision again, and know what to do.  I ignored all the questions directed at me, the few times I walked back to the house.  

       Another five days passed, and still I was not done…the blade itself was restored, but I had to awaken the magic, as well.  I know that arcane words entered my mind, and left as soon as I spoke them.  I used the holy water to awaken the divine power within in…fire to awaken the flame and arcane ability…the bone dust to draw forth it's courage and strength, and finally coated it with my own blood to seal the power.  The mithral net I'd used during the forging process to repair it…make it even stronger than before.  

       Thirteen days after I'd had the vision, I was done.  The Battle of Fury had been repaired, and the full force of the magic within in was so strong that I did not even have to touch the weapon to sense it.  The steel blade was smooth…as though it had never been broken…mithral gleaming, and intersped through the length.  The pommel gem glistened blood0red, seeming almost alive with light from within.  Though the base workmanship was human, the sword was different now, than it had been.  There were traces of my own style in it: an unusual melding of human, dwarven and elven technique and styles.  Unique…as I am unique.  

       I had repaired an artifact.

       Yet a toll was taken, for I was beyond weary.  It was even worse than when Sera had first been hatched…and I went without food or rest for weeks.  I had only a moment to admire my work, the finished product, before I collapsed into oblivion.         


	7. Chapter 7

____ Here is a little bit more of the story, for my few fans.  I promise, that I will finish the tale, but it may take a while longer.  I plead for your patience.  Azurielle

Oblivion was a longer time that it seemed.  For me, moments passed, moments spent in a dark place that was finally peaceful…for a time I felt as though I was standing at the edge of one place and another place.  One world and another.  For a moment, there almost seemed to be light, a green place that I knew I would be happy in, no matter what…and yet I felt that I was not ready yet to go there.  Strange that I felt unready to feel happiness, but as I stood in the realm between worlds, I knew that there was more to life than being happy…life was living, and living sometimes mean unhappiness, and pain. I fancied for a moment that I could hear crying, from somewhere beyond…back the way I had come.  I wondered how my going would affect her…and somehow, I felt it would.  So I took the first step, the one that would lead me back the way I came.

       One step was enough.  

       I woke slowly from whatever state I was in...be it sleep, or death.  Sound returned to me first, and I heard the sound of whispered voices.  Though they were familiar, I could not identify specific people.  I heard them speaking about me, wondering if I would ever wake.  I guess I poured more of my life into the sword than I'd thought. 

       I opened my eyes, world coming back into view a bit at a time.  I still felt weary beyond belief, and yet, it was not pain.  I sat up, looking around cautiously.  I was in a place I did not recognize at all.  The room I was in was spartan, a simple cot, all in white.  A small window admitted light, letting me know that it was day.  There was no door, only an open doorway, leading out into a larger room.  

       As I drew myself into a sitting position, I immediately knew that something was odd…the blade, The Fury of Battle was still trapped in my clenched fist.  It took me a full minute to pry my fingers from the hilt.  It was more that my finger was locked, rather than actually stuck.  I spent another moment looking at the artifact.  It looked different than before…somehow less than it had been, but still the same.  Odd that, and yet not unexpected.

       It did not take long for me to learn where I was, as I was soon swarmed by several priests, all bent on discerning "how I was."   I was at the temple of the Seldarine in Leuthilspar.  It was a temple dedicated to all the gods of our pantheon, and as such numerous priests and priestesses were always in attendance.  

       As soon as it was ascertained that I was "all right," and was still myself, the priests sent for my family.  They then explained that I had been discovered, unconscious nearly two months ago, and that no amount of magic, divine or arcane, or any other method had worked to awaken me.  I was simply unable or unwilling to be woken.  And, they added, they had been unable to take the Fury of Battle from my grasp.  My parents, it seemed had been frantic when they brought me here…and time passing had only created a mystery that the priests could not solve.

       Strangely enough, as I recall, I not the first member of my family to fall under such a sleep.  A distant cousin of mine, or so I have been told, also fell under such a sleep once.  When I was young the story had fascinated me.  The elven woman…hardly more than a girl had fallen mysteriously unconscious, back before Queen Amlaruil had married King Zaor.  Although in her case, it was said to have been a curse…she never awoke, and never aged.  I, personally, have never seen the girl, but we tell stories about her…a great mystery, especially seeing as her mother had been a Nightstar.

       Anyhow, obviously it was not the same with me…but similar, somehow.  

       So my family arrived shortly after I woke.  My parents alternated between being overjoyed, and scolding me for doing anything so overtly dangerous.  I took both their scolding and tears with equal diffidence.  My father, I noted, was watching me very carefully…a thoughtful expression on his face.

       Sera was with them, of course, and she ran into the room…apparently having been kept out there by Sylthas, until my parents spoke with me.  Her wails began as soon as she saw me, and did not cease until I had assured her numerous times that I would never do this again, and that I would always wake up when she shook me.  

       I returned home.  There was talk for a time, of taking the Fury of Battle away me, but I quickly assured all that the blade was mine, both right of blood, and divine right, for certainly the knowledge of how to repair it never would have been given to me if Tempus had not willed it, and had not Corellon allowed it.  

       The smith I had been training under simultaneously bereted me for my action, and yet tried to learn how I had accomplished such a feat...me being such a…novice.

       Time passed.  Things returned nearly to normal after that.  My parents asked only once why I had done what I did.  I answered that I only did as I was bidden…figuring that I should get used to such a thing…after all, was that not what nobles did…follow all the rules?  They have not asked again.  

       The years trailed on…I began to run out of things to do…ways to keep myself feeling alive.  I went through the motions…wondering if this was to be the way of things for the rest of my life.  And just when I began to think I could not possibly take it much longer, I received a summons for the palace.  The Queen wished an audience with me.

       I went, thinking it little more than one of the talks she has with the nobles…but I was wrong.

       She was in a portrait gallery, when I was lead in to see her.  In it were portraits of the royal family…all thirteen of the children, and several of Queen Amlaruil and King Zaor.  Many were done in different styles, painted by different painters.  I took a moment to look at the portraits, admiring the work.  There are few portraits among elven culture, you see.  Strangely enough, it is not because we cannot paint…indeed, there are many who excel at the art. The lack of portraits is due entirely to the way that many elves view the world.  When they paint a person, more often than not, the painter will paint what they see within the person...and oft times that is very different from the exterior appearance.  Or at least, that is what I read in a book somewhere.

       But these paintings, however, were very realistic…uncannily so, in fact.  As I stood before the one of King Zaor, it almost seemed to be alive, the blue and gold eyes watching me.  In a way it was saddening.

       The Queen approached silently, her slippers little more than a whisper against the cool, crystal tiled floors.  She stared at the portrait for a moment, and I noted that the Queen was very tall.  It is not something that is immediately apparent about her, for she is often seated…but the truth is, the Queen is nearly 6 feet in height…taller than many human women I met.  

       "You miss him," I said to her, not looking away from the portrait.  It was certainly an understatement…but until then I had made little mention of the King to her.

       "I do," she replied softly.  "But I have a duty.  That is why I do not join him."

       "Duty…" I muttered.  "Why must we always be so constrained by it?"

       "You are like him," the Queen said, not responding to my bitter comment.

       "I?  Untrue, my Queen.  I could never be like him," I replied.

       "And why do you think so?" she asked.

       "Look at me…he was a leader…a great elf…people loved him…he was a hero…"

       "And you think that you are not and will not be any of those things?"

       "Yes.  I am a noble, but hardly a good one…and it is my own fault.  I am not respected because of what I am, and my own behavior…and frankly, my Queen…I feel…trapped here." 

       "I know.  You are like him, though.   The King you knew was not always the elf he was.  When my Zaor came here, to Evermeet, he was weary…he'd had adventurer…he'd seen the world…he'd done much, and proven himself in battle.  He came here after Myth Drannor fell, never expected to be what he became…but when the need came, he accepted his duty and proved himself to be true."

       "He proved himself…he was tired…that is just it…I saw so little…and I certainly cannot prove myself…not here, anyhow," I stated.

       "You would leave Evermeet?" she asked.  I nodded, slowly.

       "At first…when I first came back, I never thought to ever want to leave…but things are different.   I…need to feel alive, and I don't feel it here," I confessed.

       "You are close to fading…closer to Arvandyr than Evermeet," she stated, turning away from the portrait to regard me for the first time.  Again I nodded.

       "I don't know what to do, my Queen…it is not that I do not love Evermeet…or the people here…it is just that…I feel there was more for me to do…but away from here.  Sometimes I cannot breathe here…and sometimes the island seems too small."

       "I know a bit of what you speak of…yet what to do, when it is duty keeping us here?" she asked.

"One must do as they are bidden," I shrugged, saying the words, and yet feeling as though I was speaking a lie…for I did not want to believe it.  After all, had I not done as I was bidden in Ruathym…and look where that got me.

       "What if duty demanded you return to the mainland, Keledrial?  Would you do it?" Queen Amlaruil asked.  

       "I would…I think I would even beyond duty anyhow.  But that is neither here nor there.  My parents would never allow me to go."

       "But what if it was I who demanded you go?" she asked.  Part of me felt a sudden rise of elation, while another part was immediately suspicious.  I wondered for a heart beat if I was about to be banished for my behavior.

       "You would have me leave Evermeet, your highness?" I asked, sounding far calmer than I felt.

       "Not in the manner you fear," she replied.  "The leaving would be on a task for me…not because of your behavior.  Certainly my Lamruil did far worse than you have yet to contrive," she laughed softly.  But still I wondered…after all, in all my time back on Evermeet, Lamruil has been gone…to where, no one seems to know.  I drew myself from such thoughts quickly, as I saw that the Queen awaited my answer.

       "Then, if I am not to be exiled…it would be the greatest honor for me to do any task you set for me.  Only, there is the matter of my parents."

       "What if I told you that your parents have already given their consent, and indeed, their blessing in their matter?"

       "Why would they?" I asked, incredulous.  "They have told me, time and again, that they will not let me leave."

       "Keledrial, they know you are unhappy…they fear for you…it is just that they did not know how best to help you.  Indeed, it was your father who came to me, and expressed his fears to me."

       "_My father?" I repeated, faintly.  She nodded._

       "He loves you dearly, Keledrial.  But both of your parents are afraid of losing you again…and I think they have come to believe that if allowing your return to Faerun is what is needed to keep you, then that is what they will do.  So I ask again, would you accept a task I set for you, Keledrial?"

       "I will, my Queen…I will do whatever you ask," I fell to one knee, before her.

       "Then come, and we shall sit, and I will tell you what I would have you do."

              The task my queen gave me was certainly an unusual one…and something I did not quite expect.  She told me that she had for me a task that was multi-fold. She told me that I was to go to a school…a very special school in the dalelands of the Faerun…which, as I have learned is near a great country called Cormyr, which is to the east of where Evereska once was.

       Perhaps going to a school does not seem like much of a task, but there is more, which I shall explain.

       The school is called the Everall school, founded some twenty years ago by an elven woman named Liralyn Sunstar, and the group she once adventured with.  The school, though it has not been around long, is highly sought and fairly controversial.  From what information I have been told, and managed to gather, there is quite a bit of story behind it.

       Liralyn Sunstar is not an unfamiliar name to me, although among the Nightstar house she is more commonly referred to as the "sleeping one."  I believe I may have made mention of it before, but if not, I shall do so again.  The "sleeping one" is one of my families great mysteries, as she is a relation to the house, even though she is Ar-Tel Quessir…a gold elf.  Tracing history back, I believe that she is the cousin of my great-grandfather, and she was born well-over 4 centuries ago.  While such a length of time is not so long for the people, the manner in which she spent much of that time is rather unusual.  Liralyn Sunstar slept away some 3 centuries of her existence, never aging, never waking.  Powerful magic had put her into a state of stasis, though no wizard or house Nightstar, Sunstar, or any other house could devise a way to break the spell.  The problem, as I have learned, was that the curse had been cast, not on Liralyn, but on Liralyn's mother, Astianna, a moon elven woman. It had affected my many times distant cousin through her mother…and the spell, therefore could only be dispelled on Astianna…and no one, to this day, ever found Astianna Nightstar.  

       Now, while I was on Ruathym, it seems, the curse finally ran its course…and with the passing of the last of my great-grandparents, and Liralyn's gold elven relatives, Liralyn awoke.  For her, it was as though no time had passed.  She awoke to find her known family dead, and the world she knew changed…I certainly can sympathize…at least with the latter statement.  Furthermore, not only had Liralyn been affected by this curse, but so had her unborn child…

       Now, I promise I am getting to the point…

       The unborn child was born, a boy.  Liralyn refused to name the child's father…but the Queen knew who he was, and more importantly, why Liralyn Sunstar was afraid for that child's life.  

Now, I have mentioned that the King and Queen of Evermeet had many children…only a small few of whom I ever met.  You see, the heirs to Evermeet seem to suffer tragic accidents…many of these so-called accidents, I am certain were aided in no small part by the traitor, Kymil Nimesin.  One of these heirs was the first born son of the king and queen, second in birth and rank only to his sister, the princess Ilryana.  His name was Xharlion Moonflower, and he was killed before he reached his first century.  Before he died, however, he fathered a child…just one child…and that child is the eldest son of my distant cousin, Liralyn Sunstar.

Although this child is a direct descendent of the royal family, the boy cannot ever inherit…for, you see, he, like his mother, is Ar-Tel Quessir.  And the gold elves cannot wield a moonblade…and only a member of the royal family who can wield the King's blade will ever rule.  

All of this the Queen told me, and more.  Part of my task, you see, is to guard this child's life…for although he is a gold elf, and out of the line of succession, he may still be in danger due to his heritage.  Although this boy cannot inherit, the Queen explained to me, he is still her grandchild, and the last link she has to her lost son, Xharlion…and so she wishes him safe.  When I asked why she would have me do this, and why now, when the boy was already entering his 4th decade, the queen gave me an answer, which I shall explain further, momentarily.

     Liralyn Sunstar left Evermeet shortly after her son's birth, taking him with her to Evereska.  But, like many of the people, she felt the need to travel.  The queen has hinted that my cousin had some greater purpose than mere wanderlust, but has not volunteered any further information on the topic, and so I have not asked.  She left her son in Evereska, and traveled for a number of years with a group of adventurers…all of varied races.  During their adventures, the group amassed a great deal of wealth, gained renown, and were regarded as heroes in the dalelands, where they had stopped a demon residing in Myth Drannor that sought to expand its power by spreading its taint into the humans' lands.  

Perhaps it was the variety of the party, a group, which I am told, worked together well…or perhaps it was their adventure to Myth Drannor that inspired them…but some ten years after they began, the group retired.  They poured much of their wealth into a school…a school the likes of which have not been seen since the Fall of Myth Drannor.

It is called the Everall school, because everyone from all goodly races are invited to study there.  From what little I know, this means that there are elven children schooling alongside dwarven, human, halfling, and gnome children.  However, because the idea of such a school could never come easily to many, the party devised a plan to keep the location of the school a well-guarded secret, thereby assuring the safety of the students and teachers living there.  Only those who are invited will be taken into the section of the forest of Cormanthyr where the school is located…and only a small number of people…mostly the original party, and closely trusted friends can guide those invited through the forest…I gather that magic is involved on a grand scale, for the queen has informed me that invaders, or those that mean harm to the school or the students, often find themselves lost in the forest, only to emerge where they began, some many days later, telling wild tales of dragon protectors and the like.

It shall be interesting to see how much of those tales are true, for in order to complete the protection part of the task, I must go to the Everall school, where the boy and his mother live.  Getting an invitation was easy enough, or so the queen informed me. Sera, whom I am not leaving behind, will be invited as a student, whereas I am to go as a …teacher, believe it or not.  Just what I am expected to teach; I have no idea yet, however.     

        The second part of the task I have been given also requires that I be situated in the Dalelands, close to the forest of Cormanthyr.  You see over the past decade or two, the elven retreat has ended.  The elven retreat was a calling that most elves felt…a need to depart the mainland of Faerun and go to Evermeet.  So the people did just that.  In the process of doing so, we foolishly abandoned the elven court in the forest of Cormanthyr, and the mythal that guards it.  We'd hoped that the mythal would protect the ghost town we left behind…but apparently it was not to be so.  

       According to the queen, after the people abandoned the forest, drow moved into the places we once held.  The dark elves began to try to use the mythal, to twist it to their own will.  And because they are still, in many ways, elves, they were able to get control of the elven court.  Fortunately, there are several different drow factions who have taken residence in the forest, and so they fight with each other, and the humans so often, they have not had the time to completely devote all their efforts on corrupting the mythal.  And so I come to the second part of my task.  

       Over the years since the end of the retreat many of the people have returned to the mainland, back to the homes from whence they'd come, only to find that their homes are now infested with drow.  Part of my task is to aid those among my people working to take back what is ours.  To that end, I am to lend my strength and magic whenever it is needed.  And since the school is located just inside the forest of Cormanthyr, it will be the best place for me.

       Though the queen only spoke of the two tasks, I suspect there is another reason I am being sent to this school…I would almost hazard to say that the tasks were made as more of an excuse.  For although I can understand that protecting the queen's grandchild, and removing the drow presence from the forest…both tasks given to me seem almost…unnecessary.  What I mean by that, is simply that, the child is already well past his second decade, and has suffered no harm…furthermore, his mother and an entire school full of teachers who are trained in magic and war surround him…protecting him.  What possible use can there be of one more protector?  And as for the drow, well…I'll grant that when it comes to battle, I am neither a coward, a weakling, nor inexperienced.  Still…why me?  As I have been told time and again, I am young…and foolish.  Why would they not send someone better suited to taking orders…and to combat against the dark ones, than I am?  

       Those are the reason that I suspect that there might be a third reason behind all this…and more than just my restlessness here, on Evermeet.  But what the reason is, I am not certain of yet. I shall figure it out, yet, though.

       I returned later that evening, in better spirits than I have been in, in years. When I arrived home, however, my spirits dimmed somewhat.  My parents were waiting for me.  Their faces were…sad.  That is the best I can think to describe their expressions when I saw them seated in one of the smaller sitting rooms.  They were trying to hide their emotions, as befit their stations…but they were not quite managing it.  My father looked up to see me pause in the doorway.  As I met his gaze in the fading light, I noticed, for the 1st time, that there was more silver threaded in among the pure sapphire blue of his hair.  It shocked me…my father is far too young to be showing signs of aging yet…and yet he was.  In that moment, I was able to look at him, without the anger I had felt towards him and his high-handed ways, over the past years.  He was simply my father, and I was painfully aware of what a horrible son I was.  I lowered my eyes, not able to meet his any longer.

       Even worse was my mother, beside him.  She is even younger than my father, and yet with her, was her ever-present cane.  Her leg, even after all this time, has never fully healed.  She walks with a limp from a wound sustained while protecting our home.  And here was I, her son, happy that I would be, once more, leaving Evermeet.

       "The queen has spoken with you," my father stated.  I nodded.

       "And you have, of course, agreed to her proposal," he sighed.  Again, I nodded, holding tightly to the doorframe. I wondered then, how I could be so happy about something that was making my parents so very unhappy?  

       "Keledrial, come in, and sit," my father ordered.  So I did.

       "Look up, please," he added, when I kept my gaze on the floor.  I forced myself to do as he wished.

       "She…told me it was your idea," I began, softly.  My father nodded.

       "I am not blind to your unhappiness, son.  I only thought that time was what you needed…but I can see it is more than that."

       "I know…sometimes…sometimes I think that I can never be happy…no matter where I am," I mumbled.  

       "It's like being Cha'tel quessir…trapped between two worlds," I added, feeling miserable again.

       "Don't say that!" my father snapped, a bit of his fire returning.  "You are not a half-human!  You are our son, and as elven as I am…but we have to accept that you are not as you were…that you are not a little boy anymore.  For better, or worse, your time among the humans has shaped you into who you are. I can accept that, if you can accept that I only wanted the best for you…and tried to make sure you had it…even if it was not always what you wanted."

       "I am sorry I am not the son you wanted," I apologized.  "If you wish…I will renounce my claim on the heirdom of the house…that way Sylthas…or Kedriel, or the girls could take my place…they are all better suited…"   My mother was the one to glare, this time.

       "You will do no such thing!  You are my heir, Keledrial.  You seem to forget one thing, my son…it is I, and my sister who make the decisions, and it is I who will decide if you are worthy…not you."  She was silent for a moment, as though contemplating something, then she spoke again, her voice calm, once more.

       "I understand that you are restless…it is in your blood, baby.  Both my family, and your father's family number adventurers among their ranks…you won't be the first…or the last, I'd wager.  The way things are looking, Sylthas will be off to the mainland not long after you…and Kedriel is already talking about following in your footsteps." 

       "I'm sorry…"

       "Stop apologizing," my mother said.  "Now listen to me…we are not angry at you, and your leaving is not because we don't want you here.  It has just taken us…time to realize that the future we had planned for you, the life we thought you wanted, and the reality of things are not the same.  When you were little, you seemed perfectly content to stay here, on Evermeet.  You never showed the slightest curiosity or interest about anything beyond Evermeet, and especially not adventuring.  It has taken your father and I a while to reconcile the changes we have seen in you.  And I am the one who is sorry, for we allowed so much time to pass while we adjusted, that you suffered for it."  My father spoke up as my mother stopped.

       "Son, when I told you that I didn't think adventuring was an appropriate profession for you…it was my fear speaking, and I beg you to forgive that. You have the right to choose your profession, only so long as you do not neglect your duties to your family.  It was only that I was afraid to lose you…and to tell the truth I still am.  We lost you once, already, but by the grace of the Seldarine, you were returned to us.  After reading your journal…the close calls you had while with your…comrades…all I could think was how many times we might have lost you.  You are our first born…to lose you to illness was a thing we always expected.  But you came back, healthier than we even dreamed…to lose you now would be even worse."   

       "I don't know what to say," I mumbled, feeling joy at their love for me, and yet saddened, for I was causing them pain.  "I don't know what to do.  I want to go…I want to see things and do things…I keep thinking that if I stay here, I'll never have the chance.  But I don't want to leave you either.  On Ruathym…I saw you in my reverie every night…it haunted me to think that I had survived and you hadn't…and that I would never see you again.  After a while, I could hardly even remember what you looked like, and "mother" and "father" were Ingrid and Brander.  I never thought I would ever see you again…but you lived, and I came home…and all I have done since that day is cause trouble and grief for both of you…and there is nothing I can think of to do to repair that damage, except stay and be what you want me to be…but I can't…I just can't be that boy anymore," I explained to them, expressing more of my inner feelings and thoughts to them, than I had in years. 

       "Please…I need you to understand that it isn't you, and it isn't Kedriel or the girls that I am trying to get away from.  I love all of you.  It isn't even Evermeet, for I swear to you, I love this place…it is me…I feel so trapped here…at first I could stand it, but the feeling has grown more intolerable since then.  I don't even know why I feel this way, but I do.  I keep thinking that if I can go back…see things, travel, like Tobias did…maybe even fins people like me…people who don't really fit in, that when the time comes, I'll feel that I have done and seen enough to be able to come home and stay here, without feeling…lost."

       "That is why we want you to go," my mother stated finally, after a long moment of silence.  "It is not because we don't love you…and we know that you love us…we just want you to be happy.  But I won't lie to you…I also want you to be safe…and a big reason why your father and I agreed to the queen's plan, is because you will be safe at the school.  And if there is any place that will be able to help you through what you are feeling, it is at a school, where the main goal is to teach cooperation, and acceptance between the races." 

       "You are certain that this is all right with you both?" I asked…at that moment I desperately wanted to be reassured of their approval…I needed to know that on the day I decided to come home, that I would still have a home. 

       "Of course…I never would have spoken to the queen about it otherwise," my father stated.

       "And Keledrial, don't worry so…it is not like this will be the last you see of us," my mother added, reassuringly.  "The Dalelands are far from Evermeet, true, but that does not mean they are impossible to visit…nor does it mean you cannot return to Evermeet and see us." She glanced down to the ring I now wore on my finger, as though to make a point.  The ring, you see, is an elf-rune ring…which the queen gave me just as she finished explaining things to me.  It granted two abilities to the wearer.  One was that the queen could contact me, and I could contact her if the need arose…at any time.  The second ability was greater still…I need only use the command word in the ring to transport back to Evermeet in an instant.  Though the ability to do so is a great gift, one that only the queen could grant, I knew that she never had to worry about the ring's misuse…for the ring can only be removed from my finger by the queen herself, or after my death…and if I should die, it would lose all of its magic, anyhow.  

       I knew that that was what my mother meant by being able to return to visit them.

       I stayed up with them, for much of the night, talking.  It was a great thing to be able to speak with them…to say what I felt…and it was an even greater thing to finally realize that I had both their love, and understating.  

       It took a bit of time to get all my affairs in order.  Naturally Sera would be coming with me.  I know that I once said that Evermeet would be the safest place for her, and indeed, it probably is…but I cannot bear to leave her behind, nor would she, in any event, permit herself to be separated from me.  So she is coming as well.  At least this time she is older, and more readily comprehends what we are doing.   She seems only a little upset that we are leaving Evermeet…and that is mostly because she does not want to leave my parents, or her friends here.  Yet, I think she realizes that she will make new friends, and she seems a bit excited about going to the school.  She has declared that she has decided she wants to become a wizard, like me…and that she will learn how to do so at the Everall school.  We shall see…after all, her opinion can change as often as the tides.

       She has also asked if we are going to visit Lita and Rosa, and Allianna when we return to the mainland.  I was somewhat shocked at her question, seeing as how she had been a baby when we knew them…but then again, she is a dragon, and dragons are even more renown for their amazing, and long memories than elves are.

       I managed to finish packing the things I would need in short order…mostly I took my weapons, clothing and armor, the gems I had brought with from the mainland, but had never gotten around to spending, and other necessities.  My parents weighed me down with a great deal of coin, claiming that they were not about to have their son and granddaughter wander off without enough money to keep us comfortable.  I did try to refuse it...after all, there isn't a whole lot I need that I don't already have…but naturally, they insisted.  

       Sera's packing, on the other hand, took a bit more time.  She was determined to bring everything she owned…which is no small sum of items.  I suppose I understand why…it's her draconic hoarding tendency…but I ended up having to purchase two very large bags of holding in order to fit it all.  And while putting everything into the bags, I cursed all of my friend and family members for buying Sera so much…clutter.  

       All said and done, it took about a ten-day before I was ready to go.  Everything had been packed up, and consolidated down to a few bags, and I said all of my farewells.  Tobias, I learned was going to stay a little while longer on Evermeet, but added that I should not be surprised if I ran into him again, somewhere on the mainland.  Sylthas seemed rather envious of my going, claiming that he, too, would like to see the world a beyond Evermeet, but that his father was not having any of it.  I told him to act miserable and eventually his father would give in, as mine had.  My sisters seemed only vaguely interested in my leaving. They both claimed they would miss me, and perhaps they would…but I do not think it will bother them much.  As much as I have grown fond of the girls, I realized earlier on that Anarihne and Amentrine are their own little unit.  For the most part, their world consists of each other…and occasionally our cousin Orianna…and there is really no one else they need at this point in their life.

       Kedriel's reaction, however, was anything but mild.  He screamed and yelled, he cried and pouted.  He demanded to go with me, and alternately demanded that I stay.  He had decided at some point after I had made my reappearance on Evermeet, that since our sisters had each other, that I was his.  That meant he believed he should be able to go wherever I went, and do whatever I do.  Early on he began mimicking my rather unique mannerisms, and was ever at my side…a fact, I might add, which infuriated Sera to no end, for she does not wish to share me with anyone, not even my little brother.

       At first I tried to explain to Kedriel that he was too young to come with me…but then realized that I sounded too much like my parents, who had claimed I was too young to leave.  So I changed my stance, and told him that I had to leave on a secret mission from the queen.  That perked his attention long enough that he ceased his tantrum.  He demanded to know more.

       "I cannot tell you, or else it wouldn't be a secret, now would?" I admonished him.  He thought about it, and finally nodded.  

       "I wanna go with you," Kedriel replied.  "I can help!"  

       "And I am certain you would be a help, little brother," I stated seriously.  "But where I am going, you cannot come yet."

       "Why not?" he demanded.  

       "It's a secret, remember?"

       "Oh…well, can I come with you some day?" he asked.

       "Yes…as soon as the queen says you are ready, you can come with me.  But until then, you have to behave, and do as our parents tell you, and be the best there is at the things you do…that is how the queen will know you are ready," I told him.  He nodded solemnly, as though everything I was telling him came from the mouths of the gods.  I stared down at him, taller that he was even while kneeling.  His green eyes were the same color as mine, hair and features also as mine were.  I wondered if he would grow up, and become as tall as I was...or if my own size had something to do with my time spent on Ruathym.  I stood up abruptly, and ruffled his hair.  

       "Cheer up Kedriel…I'll come back to visit you, I promise."  

       "All right then…you can go, but only so long as you promise," he stated, as though my going was forestalled by his approval.

       "You have my word, little brother" I vowed.  

       Sera and I left later that afternoon, after a strangely sorrowful leave-taking that was marked with a great deal of hugging, and promises to return extracted from me.

       This time, I would not be taking a boat back to the mainland.  Apparently both my parents and the queen did not feel like tempting fate, and Umberlee twice.  Instead, I was brought up to the palace, and the queen activated a gate to the mainland.  She had already made arrangements for its use with the people at the other side.  The gate would take me to Blackstaff tower in Waterdeep, home to the Archmage of Waterdeep, as I recall.  The queen gave me several sealed letters that would gain me entrance to the Everall school, and confirm my identity to my gold elven cousin there.  The plan was that I was to gate into Waterdeep, and then take the wayfarer's guild as far as Suzail, the capital city of human kingdom called Cormyr.  From there I was to meet with a caravan headed over to the daleands, and arrive at the village of Hap, in Battledale.  The town itself is small, with only a few permanent buildings, but it was also where students from the school are met by the guides who take them to the school itself.

       However, I had slightly different plans.  As there was no time limit to exactly when I had to reach the school, I decided that as soon as I got to Waterdeep, I would visit some old friends and acquaintances.  And I certainly did not need a caravan's aid to get me to Battledale…I was more than capable enough to follow a map on my own.

       So when the sun rose on the day of my departure, I headed up to the castle, with my family, and all that I was to take with me back to the mainland.  The Fury of Battle was tucked safely into my glove of storing.  Sera was skipping about, looking at the streets we passed, and the people we were with as though memorizing everything she saw.  Sanhandrian sat upon my shoulder, chipper as only a squirrel can be.  In all the time I have had him, he has not aged much…the magical nature of familiars I suppose.  He has, however, gotten considerably smarter as time has passed, and far more adept at making his opinions and feelings known.  His opinion on the matter of returning to the mainland was fairly indifferent, for Sanhandrian claimed that female squirrels and nuts were much the same, anywhere in the world we went. I was leading my horse, as well, for the beast would also be traveling with me.  He is not Lashrael, however, for unlike Sanhandrian, Lashrael was no special or magical creature…only a horse.  He passed on to wherever it is horses go when they die, last year…still as feisty as ever.  He left behind a legacy though, for during his life he'd managed to impregnate no small few moon horses on Evermeet.  Several of those offspring had been born with Lashrael's dark coloring, rather than the pale pearly hued coats of most moon horses.  My current mount is one of Lashrael's offspring…another ill-tempered stallion, whom I have rather uncreatively dubbed Lashrael 2.  The beast is very much like his sire in size, temperament, and coloring…however, from his dam, he gained a degree of intelligence, and an empathic ability, which allowed him to express his thoughts to me.  After a few arguments, Lashrael 2 and I have come to an agreement.  He will behave for me, and I will let him do mostly what he wishes.  I think that we shall get along famously, once the beast realizes for once and for all that it is I who am in charge in this particular relationship.

       We reached the palace in no time at all, and after another round of farewells, and "we shall see you again soons," and be carefuls, Sera, Lashrael 2, Sanhandrian and myself were escorted further into the palace.  We met with the queen in the king's garden…a place that had always been a private sanctuary for the royal family.  I had never before seen it, and found it a simple, yet soothing place to be.  The queen activated the gate; causing powerful magic to flare all about me…so strong I could feel the strength of the energy thrumming in my bones.  

       "Good luck, Keledrial Nightstar," Queen Amlaruil said to me.  "And take care, that you and your daughter will one day return to us, with peace a comfortable thing in your heart."  

       "I shall, your highness, and I shall strive to perform the tasks you have given me to the fullest extent of my abilities…and seek the peace that you wish for me," I replied sincerely.  After all, it is not like I wish for strife and discord in my life…but at this point in my existence, I do seem to have a habit of attracting.  Peace is a thing I seek…but I am not foolish enough to believe that it will be an easy thing to achieve…nor a short time in which I shall achieve it.

       We stepped through the portal, and with a rushing whirlwind of energy, we left Evermeet behind, and found ourselves standing in a simply furnished bedchamber in the famed Blackstaff tower.  Standing before me, was a stunningly lovely human woman, with long silvery hair.  She was obviously waiting for my arrival, and did not seem startled in the least at our sudden appearance.  She held her hand out to me, and in a courtly manner, I took it, and bowed…believing that she must be of some importance.  The minute my hand touched her, I felt the tingle of magic searing my fingertips with its intensity.  It felt almost as though the woman's very skin was infused with magic.  

       "Welcome, Lord Nightstar." The woman said, in a musical, somewhat laughing voice.  I had been told to expect a male, human wizard with black and silver hair, so I was a little surprised at the woman.

       "Such a welcome is well accepted by one as lovely as you, my lady…and please, it is Keledrial, for I am no lord.  Yet I was told that a Lord Khelben Blackstaff would be meeting me," I replied smoothly.

       "Well…Keledrial," she smiled…and as I met her eyes, I sensed, somehow, that this woman was no mere human woman, for there was age, and experience in her gaze that me feel as though I was a child, once more.  

       "Khelben did, indeed mean to meet you, however a situation arose that has unavoidably detained him...and so I am here in his place."

       "And might I have the pleasure of your name, lady?" I asked.

       "I am called Laeral," she replied easily. 

       "Well, Lady Laeral…I have heard your name…for some years ago when I lived in Waterdeep for a time. Are you not the Lord Khelben's Lady…and bear another title as well…chosen of Mystra, as I recall?" I queried, curiously. She nodded.

       "It is so, on both accounts…and your name is not unknown to me.  There are those in this city who remember the deeds of you and your former party members…indeed, my sister is among those who well recalls her meeting with you."                

       "Your sister?  Then she must look very different from yourself, Lady Laeral, for I am certain I would remember meeting someone like you," I stated.

       "Indeed we are different…as night and day," she replied cryptically.  "I believe you might recall your meeting with her…in Skullport."  I thought for a moment, of all the time that I had been in Skullport with the rest of my former party…but not for any trying could I remember any woman who'd looked even fractionally like Laeral. I would have been more than happy to continue the conversation and clarify just when I had met her sister, but I was interrupted, unsurprisingly enough.  Sera, irritated at having been ignored for so long, reclaimed my attention with her usual bluntness.

       "Dad-yy!" she whined, dragging out the last syllable of my most important title.  "Are we going yet?  We're s'posed to go see Lita and Rosa and Alli!"  

       "We'll go in a minute Sera, be polite," I admonished her, not overly impressed by her pouting expression.  Fortunately, Laeral did not seem to mind Sera's behavior.

       "That's all right…I'll show you out of the tower so that you can be on your way, Lady Sera."  Sera seemed to puff up a bit at being called a lady, and remembered her manners, thankfully.

       "Thank you," Sera smiled, curtsying to Laeral.  The human woman seemed charmed by my Sera…but then again, I really can't think of too many people who are not…except of course for my witch of a fiancé…but I'd rather not think about her at all.

       True to her word, Laeral showed up out of the building, through an illusionary door in the wall of the tower…the illusion was so clever that even I did not immediately notice it.  As we left, Laeral asked where we would be staying while in town.  I named an inn, one that had a tavern in it, and one that I had frequented when I'd last been in Waterdeep.  Since Laeral nodded, I assumed that it was still in business, Rosaleen's old inn: the Dancing Blade.  Laeral proceeded to tell Sera that her flittercat, which is just like a regular cat only with wings, had had kittens some weeks earlier, and she was wondering if Sera might like one for a pet.  Sera, who loved gifts, especially ones she could play with agreed instantly, and thanked Laeral again, not even bothering to ask me if it was all right.  I guess she knows me far too well…I hate to refuse her anything…unless of course I think it might be bad for her…and somehow, I do not get any sort of bad feeling about Laeral.  

       We headed over to the inn.  It looked a little more weather-beaten, the wood more aged that it had been some 20 years ago, but other than that little had changed.  Rosaleen's old boss still owned the place, his brown beard having gone fully gray.  He rented me a room, and surprised me when he called me Airk, stating that I was a hard person to forget.  It has been so very long since anyone has called me that…and I still felt a shiver of fear when I realized that even after all this time, the name was still as familiar and instinctive to me as Keledrial is.  I asked him if he knew where Rosaleen was.  He stated that she hadn't worked at the inn for twenty years, but that she still lived in Waterdeep, in a nice house up in Trade ward.  He added that she occasionally stopped by to say hello to everyone, but that after she'd come into an "inheritance," and gotten married shortly thereafter, that she didn't come down to the dock ward as often…she'd made herself "respectable."  The man seemed almost proud of Rosaleen's accomplishments.  And upon hearing that she'd done well for herself, I was gladdened.  I learned her address from him, so that Sera and I might drop by to say hello, before we left town. 

       After a short time of settling in, Sera and I decided to take a walk about the city.  Sera actually wanted to go visit people right away, but I thought that looking around, and seeing how, and if anything had changed was more ideal…just to have a little time to get used to the crowded human city once more. 

       Waterdeep was as it had been twenty years ago…a wild mix of people, races, shops and homes.  The sights and smells were a little overwhelming after the tranquility and peace of Leuthilspar, but I adjusted quickly enough.  I stopped by many of my old hangouts.  The faces had changed a bit, but for the most part it was all the same.  The adventuring guild had been rebuilt, but I didn't bother to do more than glance in.  A stop back at Brian's forge revealed that the human was still there, still working and ordering the smiths around.  His hair had a considerable amount of gray in it, and he'd acquired a bit of a paunch at some point, but looked no less formidable than he had when I'd worked for him.

       He greeted Sera and I warmly when I happened to poke my head in.  The first thing he asked was whether or not I wanted my old job back.  I smiled and told him no, that I was only passing through Waterdeep, on my way to the dalelands.  He made a noise, and asked why I'd want to go to a dull place like that, when Waterdeep had everything I could want. I shrugged, told him that it wanderlust, I suppose.  He laughed, claiming he was unsurprised to see me…that he never thought one such as my self would be content sitting peaceful in Evermeet.  We talked for a while after that, but as night began to fall, Sera and I continued on our way, back to the inn.

       Morning came quickly, and by the time it did, Sera was all but demanding we go visit.  I swear, she awoke even earlier than I did, and shook me out of reverie.   She was fully clothed already, telling me that I had to get up, get dressed, and fix her hair, so that we could go.  I did manage to convince her that breakfast was in order before we went tromping throughout Waterdeep looking to find old friends.  She grudgingly agreed, and we went downstairs.

       Since we knew were Rosaleen and Lita lived, I allowed Sera the choice of who we would visit first.  She quickly decided on Lita, so we walked the distance to the house I had given to the human thief and her daughter.  

       When we arrived however, and knocked on the door, it was not Lita who answered it, but rather an older human man.  When we asked about Lita, he nodded knowingly.

       "She's my landlord," he said.  "Rents the place to me for a fair price."

       "Well where is she living now?" I asked.  "We're friends of hers, but it's been quite some time since we last saw her."  

       "Well, she moved up to Silverymoon some ten…maybe eleven years ago.  Said she wanted her daughter to go to the college up there, I think."  He proceeded to give me the address where he sent the money to.  I thanked and bid him a nice day.  

       Sera pouted for a bit, until I assured her that we would stop and see Lita before we went to the dalelands.  She made me promise, of course, but I didn't really mind.  I happen to know that the wayfarer's guild here in Waterdeep can teleport up to Silverymoon in a trice, it would only cost a bit, and money is something that I have plenty of.

       So we continued onwards, up to the ward were Rosaleen lived.  Rosaleen's house was at the end of a quiet street, not early as full of people as the lower wards were.  It was actually quite pleasant: trees lined the streets, which were comprised of cobblestones.  Each house had its own little yard, many fenced in.  Rosa's house was made of brick, and was a fairly large in size.  It was, I might add, considerably more expensive than the house I had bought for Sera and myself when we'd lived here, so I had to assume that Rosaleen, or perhaps her husband had done well, beyond the money I had given her.

       We knocked on the door, some time just after noon.  A young man answered the door a few minutes later.  He was probably about ten or eleven, and with curly blond hair and blue eyes, I thought he looked very much like Rosaleen, and so assumed that this was her child.

       "Can I help you?" the boy asked me politely, looking bored.  

       "I would like to speak with a woman named Rosaleen.  Is she at home?" I asked.  The boy turned, leaving the door partially opened, and shouted down the hallway.

       "Mom!  It's for you!"  He then proceeded to abandon his post at the door, and return to whatever he'd been previously doing.  Another minute or two passed before Rosaleen arrived.  I had a moment to study her as she opened the door fully again.  Her blond hair was shorter, and there were a few gray strands mixed in with the blond.  She'd gained a bit of flesh, and her breasts were larger than ever. There were more than a few lines on her face, but other than that, she looked much the same as she always had…except, of course, that she no longer looked like a bar wench.  

       She looked up to see me, a hello died on her lips.  Her face broke into a smile, and she hugged me before I had a chance to say a word.

       "Keledrial!" she cried.  "It's been so long!"  She released me, only to grab Sera next.  Sera, always affectionate, returned the embrace.  After a moment, Rosaleen held Sera out from her at arm's length.

       "And little Sera!  Just look at you!  You were just a baby when you left!  What a little lady you are now!  Well, come in then!  What are you doing back in Waterdeep?  Oh, I have so much to tell you!" Rosaleen exclaimed. 

       So we went into the house…or rather, were practically dragged in by Rosaleen.  She showed us around the place, which was rather nice…and certainly a great deal better than the small apartment she'd been living in when we'd left.  She introduced us to her husband Gareth, a dark haired human man who was a bit older than Rosaleen.  He was fairly tall, but not quite my height, and his build suggested that he was physical sort.  He worked as a merchant, buying and selling cloth.  I gathered from the conversation that he'd once been in the guard, but a sword wound to his right arm had made the limb useless for battle, so he'd retired and started the business, which was doing well, according to him.  He did not seem at all bothered by my visit, even considering that I am one of Rosaleen's former lovers.  He said that as far as he was concerned, I was Rosaleen's old friend…and a good friend at that, for what I had done.  I didn't really feel comfortable with the praise, for I hadn't done much at all, but sleep with her, and so I changed the subject fairly quickly.

       Sera and I were both invited to diner, and introduced to Rosaleen's three children, 2 boys and a girl.  The younger boy, and the girl were both fairly young, and did not seem interested in me at all. The older boy, James, who was 17 I would guess, seemed shocked when he saw us.  He whispered something to his mother that I did not catch, but I heard Rosaleen's response.

       "…we'll talk about it later," was what she said.  I should have been paying closer attention, I think.  Perhaps then I would have realized that Rosaleen, Gareth, and their son all knew something I didn't…and that Rosa was hiding something from me.

       We sat down in their sitting room and talked for a while.  Rosaleen wanted to know all about Evermeet, and the things I had been up to.  I described her first request, as she wished, but did not feel it necessary to tell her every detail of what had been going on my life to make me wish to return to the mainland…especially the less…savory details.

       It was shortly before sun down that I got a shock I will never forget.

       The front door opened, and slammed shut a moment later.  Then a feminine voice called out,

       "Mom! Dad! I'm home!"  I caught a look that passed between Rosaleen and her husband, but could not interpret.  And then Rosaleen turned to me, looking a bit nervous.

       "Keledrial…" she began.  "There's something I should tell you…"

       "And what's that?" I asked, still unaware of what was going on.  Before she had a chance to respond, the door to the room opened, and a girl walked, pulling off a helmet, and chain shirt, a tabard slung over her arm bearing the symbol of the Waterdhavian guard.

       "I hope that dinner's almost ready, 'cause I'm starving…and you won't believe what happened today down in the Dock ward…"  suddenly the girl's babbling trailed off, as she looked over at Sera and I for the first time.

       "Oh…we've got visitors?" she asked…and then I took a good look at her.

       The first thing I noticed was that she had green eyes…my green eyes, to be exact.  Other features followed…elven ears only slightly less pointed than my own…and her nose, which was just like my mother's.  Her hair was blond like Rosaleen's, but straight like mine, and cut short to her chin.  Tall, and almost boyishly thin, she carried herself like a warrior.

       I think that if I had been struck by lightning at that moment, I could not have been more surprised.  Rosaleen's voice was strangely calm as she spoke.

       "Kelly, this is your birth father, Keledrial Nightstar.  Keledrial…" she hesitated.  "This is my oldest daughter, Kelly, who was sired by you the ten-day before you left for your home."


	8. Chapter 8

___To my few readers, here is the next installment of the tale.  I apologize for the shortness of it, and can only plead writer's block and college for it having taken so long for me to post it.  The block seems to be ending, and therefore I hope that the next portion of the story will be larger, and posted sooner.  Once more, I thank you for your patience, and for continuing to read this dreary tale.  It does get better for poor Keledrial…eventually.  I hope you enjoy.  Azurielle

"How?" I managed to ask, sounding, no doubt, like a moron.  Rosaleen shrugged, with a somewhat helpless smile.

       "The narraroot I used that week was too old, I guess."

       "The what?"  Rosaleen rolled her eyes.

       "Oh, Keledrial…you're still so naïve sometimes.  Narraoot is what a woman uses when she doesn't wish to become pregnant," she explained.

       "Well obviously it doesn't work that well," I muttered snippily.

       "Nothing is infallible Keledrial.  Look, I know this must be a shock for you…"Rosaleen began.

       "You have no idea," I replied.  At that point the numbness of the reality of things was beginning to wear off just a bit.  Still, I wasn't certain how I should feel about any of this.  A daughter…an actual child sired by myself was enough of a shock.  True, Sera is my daughter and always will be…but this was somehow more…troublesome.  Worse, the girl was Cha Tel Quessir.  I had always assumed that such were the result of rape…or at least I had assumed that there would be no way that I could ever be the parent of one.  It appears that on both accounts, I am wrong.

       And then, as I studied the people in the room, Rosaleen, her husband, Sera, and my…half-elf daughter, I wondered what they wanted of me.  Yes, there is no denying that…Kelly, is mine.  But still, I was barely managing with Sera alone…I don't know if I could handle being the father of a half-elf.  Besides, the girl was obviously grown, and already had a father.  And just as I was thinking this, Kelly spoke, addressing me for the first time.

       "Hello, Mr. Nightstar." I nodded by way of response.  

       "Look, I can see by your face that your worried about this, and I'm not overly certain of what you're thinking, but I feel I should say something right now.  I appreciate the nice things you did for my mother, and that you're my real father and all. However, I have a father…and I have a nice life…there's really not anything I need from you…but…well, I suppose I would like to know a bit more about you…and maybe about the elven part of me, that is, if you feel that's something you can do."  I just stared at her, not certain what to say to such a speech.  I turned to Rosaleen, looking for…something.  Her smile was gentle as always, and she seemed much like the friend she had always been.

       "Keledrial I would have told you, if I had known…but the truth is that I didn't even realize until months after you'd gone home.  I didn't think that, even had I had a way to get a message to you, that you would want to know."  At that point Gareth decided to add his two coppers.

       "I've raised Kelly as my own, and never regretted a day of it.  She's a wonderful daughter…if somewhat stubborn," Gareth shot a glance to Kelly, who merely grinned, as she sat down in a chair.  "There's nothing that any of us are asking, or expecting of you…but it was your right to know…and Rosa and I would have told you, even had Kelly not come home."  I thought on it for a moment…tried to think rationally and reasonably.  This was, in truth, partially my fault, but not anything I could have done anything about.  They were all being certain to make it clear that I was under no obligation to do anything more than just know the truth…and I appreciated that.  I supposed, however, that the least I could do would be to speak with Kelly, as she'd asked.  But I wanted to make it clear that there was no way I could stay in Waterdeep, even had I wanted to.

       So we talked.  She seemed to have dozens of questions, all of which I did my best to answer.  Try as I might, I could not seem to relax in the girl's presence, not with her watching me, seeing my own eyes staring back at me.  I thought of the times I'd sneered at the thought of half-elves…though of them as lesser, somehow.  Now, I am not certain what to think, especially knowing that I had part in the creation of one, wittingly or not.

       All in all, by the end of the evening, and part of the next morning, Kelly seemed to have learned as much as she wanted from me.  She talked to me in a manner like that of a fellow guard, or perhaps a distant relation…not as Sera treats me…and certainly not like a father.  I think that I am glad of that, though.  Learning something like this is a great deal to handle in so short a time.

       I took my leave later the next afternoon.  I told them where they could reach me, should they need me for anything…and should Kelly wish to speak with me again.  They thanked me, and replied that Sera and I were welcome back any time we wished.  Before I left, Rosaleen pulled me aside, and gave me a kiss on the cheek.  Then she thanked me for Kelly.  I think I must have just stood there, looking like an idiot, for the next thing I knew, Rosa had gone back into the house, and I was standing on the front walk…staring blankly.  

       Now, during all this, Sera had been very quiet…too quiet.  It all erupted a short time later, once we got back to our inn.  Sera is notorious for her temper tantrums…and this one was one of her best.  She screamed and yelled, and pounding the floor.  She shifting into draconic form, and stomped about the room, crying that she didn't want a sister, and how could I do this to her…as though I'd deliberately sired and then kept Kelly a secret!  She wept, seemingly inconsolable, despite my reasonable statements to calm her down.  I tried to explain how I felt to her, but I just seemed to say the wrong thing…or somehow it wouldn't come out sounding the way I'd meant it to.  Finally, I just gave up, and let her wear herself out.  It was one of the few times I felt truly horrible, and was unable to make Sera stop her hysterics…and for once, it wasn't even really my fault.

       Once she was calmed, I managed to explain things to her.  I assured her that she was my first, and most important daughter, and that Kelly was already grown up…that she had another father…one who loved her…that Kelly didn't need me, but that Sera still did.  After a suitable amount of time and attention devoted completely to Sera, not to mention a bit of bribery, in the form of a trip to a…shudder…clothing store, Sera seemed to cheer up, her sunny nature returned.  I guess I just had to let her know that she was important to me, and that I loved her…I thought that both were things I always did, but apparently while I may think something is obvious, Sera doesn't always see it that way.

       We had one more visit to make before I wanted to leave Waterdeep.  So, later, the day after Sera's tantrum, we headed to the Hidden Blade tavern.  There was a new bar keep running the tavern, but the décor was still the same.  The large human was rather uncooperative when I asked to speak with his employer.  But I was insistent, as only I can be, and he told me that Lord Elaith was out of town at the moment.  The unhelpful man claimed he didn't know where Elaith was at the moment, but that he'd had business up in Silverymoon, and may or may not still be there.  

       Deciding that, in case I should miss him when Sera and I went to Silverymoon, I left a message for Elaith. In it, I basically stated that I was back on the mainland, and could reach by sending to word to the city of Hap, in Battledale.  To make certain that my message would not be tampered with in any way, I sealed it with an arcane mark spell…my symbol that of a great sword, and wand crossed over the eight-pointed star of the Nightstar family crest.  

       I was a bit disappointed that I missed Elaith, but felt certain that I would see my fellow noble again.  I recall having met his daughter, Azariah, while on Evermeet, on several occasions.  The girl is very young, no older than my sisters, I should think.  As a ward of the elven court, and more specifically, a responsibility that the Queen herself has personally taken on, I encountered Azariah on a number of occasions.  She has Elaith's coloring, golden eyes, and curly, silver hair but her features are that of her dead mother's…or at least that is what I assumed.  The few times I spoke to her, she seemed very quiet, and soft-spoken…a perfect elven maiden to all appearances.  She seemed quiet surprised that I, an older noble, had deigned to talk to her.  I imagined that her isolation was due to, in part, her father's reputation…but with the Queen's protection, and on the strength of her own character, she will probably be able to overcome any obstacles.  Still, underneath her outer veneer I sensed that there will be more to her than the quiet, proper girl she is now.  She had an energy about her…it reminded me a bit of Sera…and somehow, I think that despite my best efforts, and Elaith's efforts as well, my Sera and his Azariah will not remain docile little girls forever…not that my Sera is docile, mind you.

       I had planned on leaving Waterdeep the next day, however, as Sera and I were getting our things together at the inn, we had a visitor.  The door was slightly ajar at the time, and I had not noticed his entrance, as I was having an argument with Sera over the damned flittercat that Lady Laeral had had delivered earlier that morning.  I wanted the kitten, a small, white and orange-striped thing with yellow eyes and a set of feathery wings, to go into the familiar pocket, where it would not cause trouble…or, may the gods forbid, escape…in which case I would hear no end to Sera's unhappiness.  Sera, on the other hand, was determined to carry it with her...and judging by the kitten's mewing and struggling, I was positive that it would be a bad idea.  Just I was winning the argument, patiently explaining that the "kitty" would be happier if it was asleep in the pocket, I hear a faint chuckle from behind me.  I turned to see a familiar elf, standing at the doorway.  He was wearing white robes adorned with gold trimming, the crescent moon symbol of Corellon his only accessory.  His silver eyes were bright with amusement, as he regarded me.

       "Well Keledrial, my friend, I see that neither time, nor Evermeet has in any form altered your daughter's ability to get her way," he laughed.

       "Celedor," I stated patiently, "I am winning this argument…now Sera, don't you want your kitty to be safe and happy? She will be happy in the pocket…just like Sanhandrian."  I asked.  Sera, her arms wrapped around the cat in question, shook her head vehemently, her silvery-blue braids smacking against her cheeks as she did.

       "No, Daddy.  Pixie will be happy if she stays with me…and I can keep her safe all by myself!" Pixie doesn't want to sleep near Sandy."  She assured me. On my shoulder, Sanhandrian chattered at Sera, shaking his tiny fist at her…he hated being called "Sandy."  Then, almost as an afterthought, Sera glanced up at Celedor and greeted him.

       "Hi, Celedor."

       "Hello Kaithseraly."

       "Sera," she corrected the priest, as she set the kitten down on her bed, and continued stuffing her things back into a bag, certain that our little argument was over and that she had won.  Deciding that I would be better served to continue on with my point later, I turned completely to face my former confessor.  Hr e answered my question before I could even ask it.

       " I heard from an acolyte, who saw you down at the smithy that you were back in Waterdeep, and felt I should pay you a visit before you left," Celedor stated.

       "How did you know I wasn't staying?" I asked him.

       "Lucky guess," he shrugged.  "Or perhaps I just know you too well to think that you will ever be satisfied staying in one place for too long."

       "That is the truth," I agreed with him.  "Even Evermeet could not hold me."

       "I take it that things did not go as well as you'd hoped?" Celedor asked.

       "They rarely do…or at least, that is the conclusion I have come to.  Let us just say that things in Evermeet proved to be far different than my expectations."

       "I am willing to listen, if you have the time," Celedor offered.  

       "Willing to listen, or curious?" I asked him.  He grinned.

       "Blunt as always…well, perhaps it is a bit of both.  Besides, I haven't heard an interesting tale for the longest time."  So I thought about it for all of half a moment.

       "All right then.  Sera and I are on our way to Silverymoon…but for you, the wayfarer's guild can wait."  After all, Celedor had helped me a great deal in the past…helped me when I most needed it…I could spare a few hours to inform him of the some of the things that occurred in my life the past two decades.

       We left the inn, and Celedor took me down to a place called the Elfstone Tavern, which is a strictly elven tavern.  The people there evidently knew Celedor well, for he and I were waved in without question by the well-armed gold elven door guards.  Inside, the place reminded me of an upper class tavern in Evermeet…all softly glowing magic lights, tables set up on several tiers, which overlooked a small platform stage, upon which a gold elven minstrel was plucking away at a lyre, playing some long, and somewhat gloomy ballad.  The building itself soared to over five stories in height to accommodate the living trees that were growing in the place.  There was a scent of rain and greenery in the air. I saw several other priests in the place whom I recognized from my last time in Waterdeep...one was Evindal Duirsar, the patriarch of the elven temple in Waterdeep, and Celedor's superior. And, naturally, we got no small amount of eyes turning in our direction as we headed to an open table and took our seats.  Scant moments after sitting down, an older, moon elven woman, with silvery hair and a tiny faerie dragon perched on her shoulder, approached us. With her regal bearing, I assumed she was the owner of the tavern…or at least some one of importance.  She greeted Celedor by name, and then turned to me.

       "Greetings, Quessir.  I do not believe we have ever had the pleasure or your presence in my establishment."

       "No, you haven't, etriel," I replied politely.  

       "I am Yaereene Ilbaereth, owner and proprietor of the Elfstone, and your name?" she asked in a tone that all but demanded an answer.

       "Keledrial Nightstar, heir to house Nightstar," I replied in my best court voice.  She was suitably impressed, and after that went out of her way to make certain that our comfort was seen to.  After we ordered lunch, Sera wandered about the restaurant.  Being that he was the only child in the place, she received a great deal of attention from all of the other patrons, most of whom gave Sera their full attention, which is what she most likes.  After watching the other elves for a while, and deciding that none of them were a threat to Sera, I turned my attention to Celedor, and answering his many questions.

       He seemed genuinely glad when I told him that my family had not died as I'd always thought.  He was interested in my what I felt I could tell him of my reasons for returning, and where I was going.  And he was most intrigued when I informed him of my meeting with the strange elven man, my first day back on Evermeet, and the healing of my fractured personality.

       "Keledrial…you do know who that very well may have been don't you?  The only one whom I would not hesitate to say could have healed you so thoroughly, and quickly…" he mused.  I nodded.

       "I know…" I replied.  "But I will not say it aloud.  I feel that if He had wished to reveal himself, He would have."  Celedor nodded, and we spoke no more on the subject.

       Now, although I had told all of my darkest secrets to Celedor in the past, this time I did not reveal everything to him.  I did not let him know anything of what had happened to me…the event that caused so much anger in me.  I thought I would know his response to it, and frankly, I did not want to hear that I was overreacting, or that I was, once more, searching for a reason to justify an action.  So I said nothing.

       The afternoon continued on, and by the time we were done conversing, it was getting on towards nightfall...which meant that the wayfarer's guild was closed.  Celedor offered to let us stay at the church.  Since I had already checked out of the room at the Dancing Blade for the night, I agreed.  On the way there, Celedor asked if I had visited any of my former party members while I was in town.  Aside from having left Tobias on Evermeet, and my attempt to find Lita, I told him that hadn't bothered.

       "Aren't you at least interested what happened to any of them?" he asked.  

       "Not really," I replied truthfully.  Celedor merely shook his head.  I am certain that he was somehow bothered by my lack of curiosity over their fates, but the truth is, that I can't find it in me to care.  Ranon hadn't been so bad…bizarre, yes, but he had tried towards the end.  As for Calvin and Hank…well, they'd let me know long ago what they thought, in Calvin's case, or how little they cared, in Hank's.  I didn't care.

       In the morning, we departed Waterdeep, and arrived moments later in the wayfarer's guild of the city of Silverymoon.

       Although it was late summer, the weather was still a bit cool in the town, which is much farther north than Waterdeep.

       I asked directions from the wizards of the wayfarer's guild.  And moments later, Sera and stepped out of the guild house, and into the streets of Silverymoon.

       How should I describe that city?  It was nothing like any place I'd ever been to…and yet something like all of the cities I'd seen…and as we walked through the streets, I felt a small chill of apprehension.  It was certainly not because I felt there was danger in Silverymoon…far from it.  The knights of Silver guarded the streets, keeping order.  The city itself was large and beautiful…filled with ancient trees and soaring towers, reminding me of Leuthilspar in a way.  Yet there were also dozens of shops and smaller human homes as well, like Waterdeep.  It was actually the way the houses were built and the people I saw walking the streets that had me nervous.  I passed not one, but many multilevel homes…human homes built around the base of an elven tree house, with entrances to a dwarven home beneath the roots of the tree.  Even more than Waterdeep, I saw many different races roaming the streets, gnomes and dwarves interacting with humans and elves and halflings. You might think that I would be surprised, and glad that so many of the races worked together peacefully in this place…but what I felt was fear…and the sense that history was repeating itself.  For not so long ago, a similar city had existed, in the heart of the forest of Cormanthor…a place called Myth Drannor, where the races co-existed in relative harmony.  But it had not lasted long…and when Myth Drannor fell, it fell hard, the people and the city pounded to such ruin by an army of darkness and foul evil, that to this day, the ruins of that city are well known for the treasure they are said to contain, and the terrible things that still roam the broken walls.  

       If it is one thing that I have noticed about the histories of the races, as I had read about more than just the elves finally, while I had been on Evermeet, it is that no matter whom it is, elves, dwarves, humans…we all seemed doomed to repeat our mistakes…never learning from them, never remembering them, until it is too late. 

       I have heard that the ruler of Silverymoon is a fair, and brilliant woman named Alustriel, who had, for a time, stepped down from her position as leader.  During that time, troubles arose swiftly, and finally, the alliance of the Silver marches begged her to resume her position of power.  So she did…and yet I wonder, this Alustriel…has she read her history?  And more importantly, can she learn from the mistakes of Myth Drannor?

       As I thought this, I took in the sights of Silverymoon.  There is no denying it is a fair city, and I think that between the cities I have traveled to, Leuthilspar, Waterdeep, Neverwinter, and Ruathym city, this is the one I have felt most comfortable it, to date.  It was large enough that I felt I would not be so crowded, or bored, and yet enough like Evermeet, that I did not think I would lose my elveness in this place.  And I thought, that perhaps, when the time came that I was done with what I was required to do in the dalelands, that I might return here once more, and see if my initial impressions proved true.

       Now, traveling through the streets of Silverymoon was a fairly easy task…and for once I did not feel so wholly out of place.  I saw elves a plenty, some of them nearly my height…well, almost.  And there were barbarians as well, people like the Ruathym, whom were called Uthgardt.  Sera was beside herself with excitement, whipping her head this way and that, trying to take in everything at once.  She pointed out stores and people, and flocks of Tressym…flittercats, flying overhead.  We walked past the temple district, catching glimpses of castle-like churches rising in the distance.  And as we entered a large open market place, I ran into, literally, the very person I was looking for…or at least I thought it was her at first.

       Even as I was apologizing for running into the woman, I recognized her.

       "Lita!" I exclaimed, thinking that she hadn't changed a bit.  "We were just on our way to your house."  She looked up at me, and it took less than a second for recognition to dawn in her green eyes.

       "Kele!" she shrieked, as she threw her arms around me…and for a second, I was confused, for it was not like Lita to be so…affectionate.  And as much as I tried not to be, I couldn't help feeling just a little bit aroused at having her arms around me…after all, I'd always half-liked Lita in a sexual manner…but since she'd never given me any hint that the feeling was mutual, and, of course, Rosaleen had been around…well…you get the idea.

       So, needless to say, I was a bit surprised at her display… then I noticed that Sera was giggling.

       "What are you laughing about, imp?" I asked her, as Lita released me.  Unbidden, my eyes traced her body…Lita didn't just look good…she looked better than ever…and yet, something was nagging me, something wasn't right.  And just as I realized that Lita had had hazel eyes, not green, a voice broke my train of thought.

       "Keledrial, tear your gaze away from my daughter's chest, if you would, and stop acting the fool."  I turned to see…Lita…the real Lita standing off to my side.  Her arms were crossed, her expression amused.  This Lita had hazel eyes; her brown hair had a few silver lines in it…her face older…and yet no less intriguing than it had once been.  But more than anything, it was her stance, her body movement that told me I had been mistaken in thinking that the other woman had been Lita. And then it dawned on me, and I turned to regard the other woman once more.

       "Allianna?" I queried.  She laughed, and nodded.

       "It's been a long time, Kele," she stated.  Sera had now broken out into full-blown laughter at my mistake…and no glaring on my part was about to shush her.  I shook my head amazed, and somewhat disturbed.  20 years ago, I had taken care of Allianna…fed, and bathed, and been victim to her and Sera's terrible mischief…and now she was a full-grown woman…and damned attractive as well.  Somehow I felt a bit awkward, in that I'd felt something for a girl I'd known when she was a child… my own daughter's playmate.  Once more, I was amazed at the mayfly lives of humans.  Finally, I joined in the amusement of my own lack of alertness.

       "Amazing," I shook my head, with a grin on my face.  "I can remember the time you and Sera painted Lashrael white…and now, here you are, your mother's image."

       "Keledrial," Lita once more drew my attention.  "What ever are you doing here, in Silverymoon?" she asked.  

       "I've a question that I've long wanted to ask you…and Sera wanted to visit, of course," was my reply.  Sera, who'd apparently known from the off that it had been Allianna, and not Lita I'd run into, threw herself at Lita so that Lita had no choice but to open her arms to the little dragon. Not that I think she minded, though.

       After initial greetings were over, I offered to take everyone out to have lunch.  Lita promptly lead us to a small restaurant just outside the main marketplace, called the _Stuffed Traveler claiming that the halfling cook, Marisela, who worked there was one of the best cooks in Silverymoon.  Her claim proved to be more than mere opinion, for I have to agree that lunch was one of the better cooked meals that I have ever had on the mainland._

       As we sat back, and relaxed after the meal, I finally asked the one question that had been nagging me for years.

       "Lita, remember back the day Sera and I left for Evermeet…you said something to me that day.  You told me that things might not work out on Evermeet the way I'd thought.  How could you know that?"  Lita shrugged.

       "You had everything built up in your mind how you thought it would all be, Keledrial.  But the fact of the matter is, that things rarely go as planned.  I just wanted you to be prepared for an upset, and know that you could always come back," she explained.

       "You certainly proved to be wiser than I," I told her, quietly.

       "I gather that things did not go well?" she asked, gently…a rarity for Lita, whom I'd always recalled being more blunt and straightforward.

       "They went both better, and far worse than I'd hoped," I answered cryptically.  Before I could go on, Allianna stood up.

       "Hey, Sera, how 'bout if I show you some of my favorite places in town?" she asked my daughter.  Sera jumped up, nodding enthusiastically.  Almost as an afterthought, Sera turned to me.

       "Can I go, Daddy?"  She pleaded.  I nodded.

       "Just so you bring her back to your mother's house by dark," I told Allianna.  The older girl…woman, nodded, and off they went.  Very clever, that Allianna…she'd distracted Sera so that I would have time to speak with Lita, uninterrupted.                

       "No more "Kele"?" Lita asked, drawing my attention back.  

       "No…not often anyhow.  She learned pretty quickly to mimic the elven children."

       "And it bothers you?"

       "No…and yes…sometimes I hardly know what to think about things, since it seems that a moment after I think a thing, something comes along to force me to alter the previous thought, if you catch my meaning," I tried to explain.  

       "What is it that you want to talk about, Keledrial? I can see it burning in you.  I've been through some tough times…and you have too…talk to me.  I'll listen." 

       And as I'd felt uncomfortable talking about the things that had happened on Evermeet, even to Celedor, from whom I'd not kept any secrets before, I did not feel so with Lita…somehow, I saw, in her eyes, and in her face, an understanding.  Perhaps it came from her own past, and from the knowledge that she, as I, had done things in the past that she was not proud of.  So I talked to her, poured out my thoughts…told her of the truly dark things I'd done…and of what I had become in my time on Evermeet…and of the things that had been done to me.  To my knowledge, she is the only person who now knows all of my secrets.

       "Keledrial," she told me, when I had fallen into silence.  "You talk of these things and the words come hard for you to say…and yet you are missing the one thing that is most important here.  You have made mistakes…so have we all…but the truly important thing is that you are learning from those mistakes."

       "Why is it that I only recognize I've made a mistake, after I've made it?" I wondered aloud.

       "Only the gods know that, I suppose.  Listen Keledrial, you must learn one thing…and it is something I think you have yet to realize.  You still judge people by what they are…and you must learn that who they are is the more important thing.  Humans are all humans to you…all alike…dwarves are dwarves.  Women are women, and therefore all alike.  I once thought that way too.  I understand your anger at what happened to you…what that elf woman did to you.  But what you need to understand is that not all women are like that.  What I had to learn is that not all men are violent," she confessed.  I raised an eyebrow, curiously, wondering just what Lita was trying to say.

       "Allianna…you asked once who her father was…and I wouldn't answer you…it is because I do not know his name.  He was a pirate…a Nethlander pirate…a sea raider…and he raped me in a raid on my town."  I couldn't help but wince, and feel a bit of shame.  The Nethlander pirates are known to me…they are to the south of the sword coast, what the Ruathym raiders and Luskan pirates are to the north.  Looking at Lita, with her hazel hair and eyes, I saw for a moment, Penelope…and thought what had happened to Lita was very like what I had done to Penelope…and then the thought came into my mind.  Lita had not known the details then, but she did now…what now did she think of me, knowing that I was the same sort of person that had hurt her…that I had done to another what had been done to her?  I almost couldn't meet her eyes, but forced myself to be stoic, and face possible rejection.

       What I saw was not scorn, but the same understanding that had been there before.

       "I know what you are thinking, Keledrial…and that is why I told you what I just did.  You are thinking that I will judge you by what you were, and not who you are.  If I thought that way, I would condemn you out of hand…for you were a pirate, as was the one who hurt me.  But I know you…and I know that you changed…and accept that you learned from your mistakes.  That is why I trusted you with my daughter, and trust you even now.  And that is why I implore you to remember this one thing…all people are not the same.  And not all women fall into your categories."

       "There were so many of them who did, though," I stated, frustrated, and trying to see what she was trying to tell me.  "It was all they cared about…themselves and what they could get from me."

       " But not all," she pressed.  

       "No…not all of them…"

       "Then remember that, and keep the thought close to you.  Learn to know the person before you judge them…learn from your experiences and become better for that learning."

       "I get set in my ways…I don't like things to change, sometimes," I explained.

       " You will never fully get over your past until you learnt to let go of the anger that drives you to cling to it, Keledrial.  And as for being set in your ways, you said it yourself…set or not, people will always come along with something to "unset" you.  That is one thing you can count on."

       "I don't know if I can change my way of thinking so drastically," I shook my head.

       "Well, if you won't even try, then I fear you're in for a long, tough life, Keledrial."  Lita told me.

       After our talk, we walked the distance to her home.  Night had fallen, and the street lanterns had been lit.  Allianna and Sera were already there.

       I did not rest much that night, but rather thought on all that Lita had told me.  Hat she had said made sense, in a way, but as I told her, I did not know if I could change my way of thinking overnight…

       We ended up spending a full ten-day in Silverymoon, Lita and Allianna taking the time to show Sera and I the sights.  I heard rumors as we walked around town, something about the Zhentarim causing trouble, and orcs stirring in the north.  If I had not already been bound by my vow to the queen, I might have thought to look into what was going on a bit more.  But as the week came to a close, I knew that it was time for Sera and I to leave.  We would already be considerably later arriving at the school that we were supposed to be…and I did not wish to push my unknown cousin's good will too far, before even meeting her.

       We left early, by wayfarer guild. Our destination was Suzail, in the human kingdom of Cormyr.  We arrived in the town, moments later…it was already noon in Suzail.

       The city was much like Waterdeep, and Sera and I did not tarry long.  After purchasing a map, I decided which route we would take. 

Having decided our path, Sera and I took a northern route out of Cormyr.  We ended up traveling with a caravan part of the way, more out of convenience rather than a need for protection.  The road was fairly well traveled and in good condition.  The traveling weather was quite fine as well, with little rain, and a temperate climate.  

We traveled through Arabel, and then beyond Cormyr, through the Storm Horn mountains.  Once the road cleared the mountains, it immediately split into two roads, one wending to the west, and the other going north and east.  There were the remnants of an older road heading straight north, but it was blocked off by large boulders, and a small, bored looking garrison of purple dragons, guards of the country of Cormyr.  When I asked about the road from someone in the caravan I was told that the road had led to a former human city called Tilverton.  I asked why it did not lead there now, and was told that Tilverton had been destroyed.  When he told me the year and time it had been destroyed, I realized the human city had fallen about a half a year before the city of Evereska had been so gravely wounded.  The man I spoke with further added that a strange shadowy substance was said to cover the ruin of Tilverton, and that no living thing that entered the ruins ever came back.  Something about his description of the "shadowy stuff" reminded me a bit of the corrupted magic items I had come across, back when I been adventuring in Waterdeep…the items made of shadow magic. The very idea that shadow magic might have destroyed an entire town of humans, and indeed, the shadows were still around, still stealing life made my skin crawl.  I well remember the feel of the foul magic in the potions and weapons my enemies had had…and I never want to encounter anything like that again.

So we continued along the Moonsea Ride, the road which travels through Tilver's Gap, which is a break in the Thunderpeak mountains of the dalelands.  

I caught my first sight of the forest of Cormanthor about a ten-day and a half later, as we entered Mistledale.  The trees were tall, and very old…but not nearly as magnificent as the forests of Evermeet.  Still, as we traveled through that section of the forest, I could understand why Cormanthor was where my people had chosen to life for so long.  If one could not be on Evermeet, Cormanthor's forest were close enough.  

We passed by plenty of small villages over the next two ten-days. But there was nothing of note.  The caravan guards were on edge, claiming that this end of Mistledale was known for the beats that oft-times wandered out of the forest to attack travelers.  It was, however, quite a bit of a let down, when there was not so much as a single stir of trouble from the forest...not even a few goblins for amusement.  The fact of the matter is that having gone so long with out being in a real battle…I felt restless…anxious to once more test my skills, although goblins would have been little challenge.

Our first actual stop was a church, which was only a mile of so south of the River Ashaba's crossing point.  The merchant's were anxious to trade with the priests of the abbey of the Golden Sheaf, priests of the human goddess of the earth and planting, Chauntea.  I, however, did not feel so inclined to spend several hours in the company of priests, when I could continue on to the city Ashabenford, just across the river, and spend a night in a real bed for the first time in over a month.  So Sera and I departed the caravan at last, and continued on to cross the river Ashaba.

Ashabenford was not overly large, as human cities go…and you could fit several Ashabenford's into one ward of Waterdeep…however, it is the largest city in Mistledale…and more importantly, it had not one, but two inns.  Sera and I quickly made our way to the White Hart inn, which happened to be the closest one.  Lodging's were only a gold piece a night, and the proprietor, and aging, white haired human man named Holfast was glad enough to send up some hot bath water for a few silvers more.  

Fortunately, I managed to get Sera to take a nap after her bath, so I was actually able to relax and enjoy mine.  I felt in considerably better form after having washed off weeks of traveling grime.  

       When Sera awoke, we, of course, had to wander around and see what the town of Ashabenford had to offer.  Aside from a few stores, and a very wide open, farmer's market, I didn't see much of interest.  Sera insisted that we go visit Lashrael 2, whom I stabled at a place called Kaulvaerus Stables.  We arrived just in time to see Lashrael 2 sneaking out of the stall the half-elf who ran the place had him in.  In my rush to get to the inn, I had forgotten that the demon-spawn horse knew quite well how to open most latches, and should have warned the owner of that fact.  Fortunately, I managed to catch him before he got too far.  

       After what I thought was a rather boring day…which, as usual, was filled with stares from the locals…we went back to the White Hart Inn for dinner.  There were already a number of people in the taproom of the place, some from the caravan that I recognized, while others were locals.  

       The food was plain, and but good for all that, and about the time I finished up, was when I happened to catch the glimpse of something familiar, that tugged at my memory.  As I turned to look, I realized that the some_thing was actually a some _one_.  It was the long red braid that caught my memory, and I sat back for a few moments, studying a woman seated at a table next to mine and Sera's…trying to place her.  _

       The woman was seated with several others…and two half-orcs…one with flaming red hair that was shot through with gray…dressed in the colors of the morning, and wearing a symbol of the human god Lathlander.  The over all effect of his appearance was vaguely nauseating, especially considering that he had the look of a warrior about him.  He had a female half-orc by his side with…violet, of all colors, hair. I assumed that a spell, or some form of dye had to be involved.  There was also a human male, with shaggy brown hair, dressed in a dark green shirt, and plain brown robes.  He also wore a holy symbol, but his was that of Chauntea…a farmer priest.  Still, it was the woman herself that attracted me…and not in a physical sense, although she was striking.  Her hair was a dark color of crimson, bound in a braid past her waist, with a shock of white for bangs.  Her clothing was plain, a bright blue tunic over a white shirt, and dark breeches.  She was half-elven, judging by her eyes and ears…and I was certain that I'd met her before.  

       Finally it came to me…the girl on the Moonshaes, in Caer Callidyr, so long ago.  It had been my first day in that city, and I had been on my way to find a ship to the mainland…when a girl with a long red braid had "bumped" into me, and "relieved" me of all of my coins.  

       "The thief," I muttered out loud to myself, half-amused that I remembered after so long.  Back then, she'd been a girl, skinny and ragged…that much I recall.  She was a woman now, and judging by the three, identical red-haired infants being passed around by people in the bar that I assumed where locals, she was also a mother…or triplets, no less.  I do not even want to imagine having to deal with three children at one time…one was hard enough.  

       I had spoken quietly, but either the woman had excellent hearing, or I had just not been quiet enough…for she heard me, looking over at me, studying me for a moment, as I had studied her.

       "The northman," she replied, loud enough for me to hear as well…as she, too seemed to recognize me.  "Or is it, north elf?" she asked, even as her companions turned in their seats to look at each other.  I had not actually set out to gain her attention, or start a conversation…but it appeared I had done both.  The human man spoke first.

       "Rain, do you know him?" he asked.  The woman shrugged.

       "After a fashion…yes, I suppose you could say that we've met."

       "If you call picking my pocket a meeting," I added, dryly.  Still, I was not really annoyed.  Even when it had happened, I felt I had deserved the theft, for the money itself had come from a lifetime of stealing.  I was not about to get upset now, not when I had the amount that was stolen hundreds of times over.

       "Ah, well.  What can I say? Times were hard, and I was a thief…and you looked to have plenty." The woman did not sound overly contrite…merely explaining.  I shrugged.

       "It was money earned from a life of reiving, so for it to be stolen…it was only as I deserved."  She grinned.

       "If it's repayment you wish, I can oblige, although I hardly think that you came all the way from the Moonshaes to hunt down a street rat, some twenty odd years after the deed was done," she remarked.  

       "I need no repayment…nor, indeed, did I come looking for you.  It is merely coincidence that we now meet.  I am only passing through Ashabenford, on my way to Hap."  I don't know why I was explaining any of it to the woman, but I was.  The woman gave me an appraising look, and her gaze took in Sera, who was sleepily toying with the food on her plate, her braids, which had been neat and even earlier that morning, were sagging, with wisps of blue hair escaping their confines.  My girl was having a hard time keeping her eyes opened.  I followed the woman's gaze to Sera, but stayed relaxed, as I felt there was no harm in it.  

       "Ah…you're taking the little one to the Everall School, is it?  I've got one going there this year as well."

       "Actually, I'll be teaching there," I replied, even as I pulled the utensils out of Sera's hands before she could make a mess.  She gave me a half-hearted pout, and climbed up on my lap, and curled up.  

       "Well, good for you.  Maybe you'll see my son, Jaelen.  He's ten…wants to build things."  She stated, just as one of the infants began to whimper.  The man, her husband, I suppose, beside her went to fetch it.

       "I'll be certain to look for him," I told her as I rose from the seat.  The man returned with the baby, and said,

       "Rain, we should go…the boys need sleep…and so do you," he added.  I took note of the tired smile she flashed him, the darkness beneath her eyes, and a weariness to her movements as she rose.  I wondered if that was how I'd looked when Sera had first been hatched?  And I wondered if it was her children, or something more that had tired out the woman so, as I noted the heavy cutlass that hung on her belt.  I moved to leave, but as I did, the woman called out once more.

       "Rain the Banshee," she stated…an odd phrase, I thought.  I half turned to glance at her, curious over what she meant.  I gather she realized my confusion, for she smiled once more, as she accepted another of her children into her arms, even as her companions gathered the belongings, preparing to depart as well.

       "It's my name…Rain Hawklight, the Banshee of the Dales." She clarified.  I wondered briefly, what was in the woman's past that she had earned such a name, but did not ask.

       "Keledrial…Keledrial Nightstar," was my response.  And with that, I departed, to put my little dragon down to sleep.

       I don't know why I bothered to write of the meeting, save that the woman had reminded me of my past…and for the first time, in a long time, my past was no longer something I felt bitter about.  Reverie came easy to me that night, and the next morning, I felt refreshed and eager to see the end of this part of my journey, and the start of the next part. 

       We passed on, continuing towards Essembra.  Though it was a bit out of the way, Sera and I detoured north a bit, so that we might stop and see the famed Standing Stone of the Cormanthor forest.  It had been raised centuries ago by human and elven wizards as a symbol of unity between the two races, and as a symbol of the Dales Compact, which allowed that the humans could the cleared land with no trouble from us, and that we, the elven people, would suffer no more attacks on the forests, or further destruction by the humans cutting into our lands.  Though the compact that the stone symbolized fell when fell Myth Drannor, I am told that the sight of the stone inspires tradition among the dales folk, who keep to the terms of the compact for that reason.  It was interesting to see a bit of elven history beyond Evermeet, and yet I felt sorrow, for the people had abandoned the forest, the compact, and the people of the dales during the retreat of the elves…and now, with the drow moving in, it seemed we would have to pay for our lack of foresight.

       The journey to Hap was fairly short after that…perhaps another ten-day and a half, before we arrived at the small, sleepy-looking village.  I say sleepy "looking," for despite its deceptive appearance, I quickly noted that there were many of the townsfolk who watched our approach from beneath half-lidded eyes…saw things that did not quite fit in…felt the magic emanating from the weapons and armor of several of the "villagers," saw sturdy traveling boots rather than peasants shoes on the feet of several people.  I began to grow just a bit nervous.  The truth is, as much as I like Lita, I don't really care much for sneakiness, or trickery…and these people smacked of both.  

       So I watched, even as I was watched, but waited as well. With Sera with me, I did not want to start any trouble unless someone else began it first.  

       I traveled to the appointed place, the only inn and tavern in the village, a place called the "Sun and Stars."  I knew that I was to wait for my guide there…that they would find me…and that without a guide, there was little way for me to get through the part of the forest where the school was said to be located.

       I did not wait overly long.  Just after noon another person entered the nearly- empty tavern.  He was wearing an elven-style cloak, with a bright blue tunic beneath.  Pointed ears were far too short to be full-elven.  His hair was shoulder length, and black, like ink spilled on the water.  His skin was the pale gold hue of the gold elves, but his build, and his walk was definitely human.  He sat down at the table where Sera and I were without invitation.  When he looked up, I saw that his eyes were silver.

       "We expected you several ten-days ago," the man stated without preamble, as he rolled a silver coin between his fingers, with an enviable dexterity.

       "Well, I am here now," I replied, not feeling the need to go into great detail.

       "So you are…well, you shall have precious little time to settle in before school resumes…most of the children were gone for the summer harvesting…but they will be back soon."  When I did not respond, he stood, pushing his chair back beneath the table.

       "Well, come on then, the head mistress is waiting for you."

       "Who are you?" I asked, finally.  He gave a wry, half-smile.  

       "I'm Mallorn Nightstar, ½ elven son of your cousin, Astianna Nightstar…and your cousin as well," he had a very low, soft tone of voice, that made me think he was whispering, even though he was not.

       "Well, hasn't this just been my year for meeting previously unknown relatives," I stated, sarcastically.  It was a bad enough shock to learn that I'd fathered a half elven child, let alone find out that I am not the only Nightstar of my knowledge to do so.  I wondered what other "pleasant" surprises I had in store for me.  

       Mallorn shrugged at my statement…I do not doubt that he sensed my annoyance, but to his credit he did not comment on it.

       "Come on, then, cousins.  I'll lead you to our destination."

       Mallorn lead us out of the village, and directly into the woods.  About three miles in, I began to learn exactly how clever the safeguards around the Everall school were.  My cousins, and the teachers of the school has stacked illusion upon illusions.  They had literally used magic to seemingly change the position of trees, and landmarks, to add creatures, and hide the real ones.  The path to the school branched dozens of times, and even though I have a fairly good sense of directions, and was able to realize that a great deal of what I was seeing was illusionary, I still was lost within a half an hour.  There were times I caught of glimpse of something through the trees that may or may not have been draconic.  There were times that the trees, and undergrowth seems to shift around us, and behind us.  Mallorn lead the way, never missing a step.  

       We walked in silence, but for Sera's occasional exclamations, as she pointed out something for me to see.  Finally, we came upon what appeared to be an impassable wall of tangled trees and vines, bushes.  I felt the tingle of strong magic around it, could almost feel it in the air around my fingers.  Mallorn whispered a series of words, and then gestured us forward, as he stepped through the wall, vines and greenery shifting to allow his passage.  Sera ad I follow without question, though I wondered what kind of magic, arcane or divine, had created the wall…and if it was arcane, what spells had been used.

       I figured there would be time enough to ask my questions later, however.  

       Beyond the wall, the forest seemed to open up.  The trees were slightly sparser here, as though it were some form of natural clearing.  There was little undergrowth, and a distinct rise to the land, as we head up a slight incline, walking on a very distinct slate-stone road.  

       The small road was well maintained, as we reached the top of the rise, I saw the Everall school for the first time.

       A few very tall ancient trees shaded the flat, grass-covered area upon which the school had been built.  Dozens of buildings were scattered over the plateau, the whole, comprising the school.  A stonewall, some 8 feet in height mostly surrounded the school.  Though the wall was fully functional, it did not detract any from the school's appearance.

       A large gate was open, and I got the feeling that it was not often closed.  

       A pair of fairly young-looking human boys stood sentry at the gate.  They smiled and waved at Mallorn, as we approached, asking my half-elven cousin if I was a new teacher.  Mallorn merely nodded, and walked on, into the school.

       Within the walls I could see the detail of the buildings much better.  The school itself was not one main building, but many.  And the oddest thing to see was that all of the buildings had been constructed of different architectural styles.  Here was an elven styled tower, and there was a low, stone, dwarven-made building.  Many of the structures were human in design, but of different appearance…for instance, one place had the distinctive scrollwork of a Moonshaen home, while another looked very much like some of the homes I'd seen in Waterdeep. There were some smaller buildings with round doors and windows, and one very odd place that seemed to have no rhyme or reason to the construction, with rooms and small towers jutting out everywhere.  There were small gardens that I could see, as well.  Once again, these were radically different in design…some containing the most delicate flowers and roses, while others seemed comprised of naught save rocks and mosses.  Odd.

       I gathered that the differences in design was another of the Everall's schools way of teaching the students there about different races, and the places they dwell in.  The overall effect, however, was quite…bizarre.

       Most of the school's students must not have been back yet, for the grounds of the school did not seem to have too many people walking about.  Mallorn led us over to a building along the wall, very near to the main gate.  

       As we approached it, I quickly realized that it was a large stable.  A human man came out of the stable to meet us.  He was simply dressed, with a leather vest, and dark green clothing.  Slightly older, he was probably in his thirties or forties.  His hair was a near-white color of blond, and there was a long scar running from his lower right jaw, across his cheek, and up to his right ear, of which he only had half of left.  Still, for all his scarred visage, he grinned when he saw us, held out his hand to me.  I took it, albeit a bit of warily.    

      "You must be the new one, from the elf island, isn't it?  My name's Grim.  Grim Evenwood, ranger of Sylvanus. I take care of the animals around here…and I mean the four-legged ones, not the kids…although there are times I'd say the two are interchangeable, if you know what I mean," the man chattered on at me.  I was silent, not knowing how to respond to such.  I would have though a ranger needed to be quiet, what with sneaking around the woods and such…but apparently not this ranger.  Grim…what an odd name, then proceeded to turn his attention to Lashrael 2.  The beast was dancing about, nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air, smelling, no doubt, the other horses in the stables.  I got a mental image from him, as he used the ability he'd gained from his moonhorse dam, letting me know what he was thinking and feeling…that image was of a female horse.  I shook my head, and thumped him once on the shoulder.

       "Don't even think out it Lashrael," I warned him.  The horse snorted at me, as if to say, "Oh, I am thinking it."  The human was looking at my horse with great interest.

       "Large fellow, I'n't, he?  Black as Cyric's shorts, too," the ranger commented, referring to the human god of evil and death, and such.

       "His name is Lashrael 2, and he is part moonhorse, so he is very smart…smart enough to get most latches and doors open," I explained.

       "So you're a smart one, ay?" Grim asked Lashrael 2.  The great black, beast proceeded to nod, trying valiantly to pull his reins from my hands at the same time.  Fortunately, I proved to be more stubborn than he was at that moment. 

       "Give Grim your steed…he can deal with him," Mallorn told me, in his low voice.  I handed Lashrael over easily enough, even though I didn't really care for being told what to do by my…cousin.  Lashrael pranced off with Grim, towards the stables.  I've no doubt that by evening, he'll have broken out of his stall, and tried his best to impregnate as many of the mares in the area as possible…but for the moment, he was not my responsibility.

       "Come…my sister is waiting," Mallorn reminded me once more.  

       He led us further onto the school's grounds, and towards the opposite side of them, to another gate.

       We actually left the school grounds, and followed a narrow path back into the forest.  Less than half a mile, through more illusion-saturated, magically entangled forest, we arrived at another building.  This one was constructed almost entirely from several massive trees, magically grown and fused together to create a large home.  At first glance, most people would have walked by it, for appeared must like the rest of the forest.  

       Mallorn led us up to the door, and rapped loudly on it with his knuckles.  A few moments later, there was a muffled sound from within, and a young voice shrieked,

       "I'll get it!"  A moment later the door was flung open a very young, gold elven boy, with silver eyes and wheat-gold hair.  His eyes roamed over Sera and myself for a moment, before settling on Mallorn.

       "Oh, hello uncle," the boy stated in elven…and I wondered if this was the child that the queen had asked me to protect…her gold elven grandchild…but he seemed rather younger than what I had been told.

       "Greetings, Leithanis.  Where is Evaryana?"  The boy laughed.

       "Oh…looking for me.  We were playing a game of hide-and-find, but I got bored of hiding and Evaryana is still trying to find me, I think."  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Mallorn was trying hard not to smile, trying hard to look stern.  I knew the feeling well.

       "And what have you been told about opening the door, Leithanis?"  Mallorn questioned.

       "Um…not s'posed to without a grownup," the boy looked down.  Before more could be said, an older moon elven woman came hurrying towards the door, looking mildly disheveled, strands of dark hair coming loose from her braid.

       "There you are!  And at the door, no less!  You wait until your mother hears of this!" the woman exclaimed.  "Out of here!  Up to your bedroom!" she ordered.  The boy sighed, and slouched off, down another hallway.  Then the woman turned her attention on us.

       "Ah, Mallorn.  So sorry.  Your sister's busy with the school roster, and asked if I would watch the children…and you and I both know that they manage to trick me every time."

       "That is all right, Evaryana.  I am, however, here to see Liralyn…school roster notwithstanding.  This is the new teacher, Keledrial Nightstar and his daughter Kaithseraly," he introduced me to the woman.  She smiled at me pleasantly.

       "Well, you're a bit late, aren't you, master Nightstar?  But not too late.  Well, you'd better go on up. She'll want to see you all right away."  We were waved in, and the woman, Evaryana, closed and locked the door behind us.

       Mallorn walked through the house, which was more of a mansion in size.  It, like many houses on Evermeet, was made entirely of the magically grown trees and was very spacious and open, full of light, magical and natural.  The furnishings were fine as well, some very expensive…and revealing a variety of different styles, much like the school. I assumed that they were things that my gold elven cousin had collected during her fairly short adventuring career. There were paintings, and tapestries scattered about…one or two were even such that I recognized them…having seen pictures of similar items in books I had read on the lost treasures of Myth Drannor. I guess my cousin and her friends had done more than merely fight off demons there.  

       There were also quite a lot of musical instruments displayed about the parts of the house we saw, as Mallorn led us up to the third floor of the mansion.  Not surprising, however, considering that my cousin is a noted bard here on the mainland, and was rumored to have been possessed of great skill, even back before the strange sleep had struck her.

       Finally, Mallorn led us to a door, and opened it without knocking.  The door swung open silently, and Mallorn was quieter still as he stepped into the room.  Looking through the doorway, I saw that it was a workroom of some type. There was a wooden desk in the center of the room, directly in front of a large, round, stained glass window, the design was of the city of Myth Drannor, at the height of its prosperity.  It was a masterwork piece, and it focused all of one's attention upon it, staring at the tiny forms and buildings wrought in glass.  It was also a not-so-subtle reminder that what my cousin was trying to do here, along with her friends, was to recreate the idea of Myth Drannor in the form of a school, and yet without recreating the terrible price that the city paid for its lofty ideals.

       Seated at the desk before the window was an elven woman who could only be Liralyn Sunstar.  She was looking over a stack of parchment, periodically marking something off with a quill, a thoughtful expression on her face.  

       Like most of the Ar Tel' Quessir, she had fair, golden hued skin.  Her hair, like the boy's downstairs, was the purest gold.  I thought her quite beautiful when I first saw her.  She proved to be even moreso, a moment later, when there was a noise on the ground beside her…a vaguely familiar burble of laughter.  My cousin smiled widely, the gesture making her face seem radiant, as she reached down to where the noise had come from.  Shifting my position, ever so slightly, I was able to see that there was a coverlet spread out on the smooth wooden floor of the room, and seated upon it was an elven infant, with silvery hair, looking more moon elven than gold.  The child was playing with some sort of wooden block toy, and was laughing over his success with it.  

       While this was occurring, mere moments of time, Mallorn had crept into the room, behind the woman's chair, and as she straightened back up, he tapped her lightly on the shoulder.  

        Liralyn Sunstar jumped, gasping in surprise.  She spun around, and proceeded to smack Mallorn on the arm.

       "Don't do that!" she told him, shrilly.  "Are you trying to send me to Arvanydyr before my time?!"  Mallorn gave her a half smile.

       "Ah, but you should learn to be more alert, sister, and then I could not frighten you so easily.  Now then, your new teacher and his daughter have arrived," he finished softly.  Then he departed the room, whispering t o me,

       "May Tymora's favor be with you."

       I hardly know why he should think I needed luck.  In any case, I entered the room, Sera following at my side.  Once I was standing before the desk, I gave a semi-formal bow to my cousin, in deference to her position of respect at the school.

       "My lady Sunstar," I said, as I straightened once more.

       "So, you are the heir to the Nightstar family," she stated, raising one eyebrow curiously.  Her eyes, I noted, were silver…a rare hue for a gold elf…but then again, her mother was a moon elf.

       "Indeed I am.  Here is my letter of introduction," I held the queen's letter out for her to take.  Liralyn took it, and set it down upon her desk, hardly glancing at it.

       "So tell me, Keledrial Nightstar, why did you decide to come to my school?" she asked.

       "You know, as well as I, that I was sent here by the queen, with the command to protect your son, and to help reclaim the forest from the drow."

       "Come now, pay attention to my words, Keledrial.  You are what five and one century?" 

       "Six and one century," I corrected.  

       "Than you are hardly more than a few decades younger than I.  I did not ask why were you sent here, I asked why did you choose to come here."

       "It is the same thing," I protested.

       "It is not.  You could have been sent and never come…so I want to know why you chose to follow the queen's orders?" 

       "Disobey the queen?  Why on Toril would I do that?" I asked her, incredulously.  Liralyn sighed.

       "Oh, I see you're going to be difficult, cousin…look, there has to be a reason you were sent…a reason that has to do with your own heart, or I know that the queen would not have sent you.  I want to know it."

       "Why?"

       "Call me curious, I am a bard, after all."  I thought about it a moment, before responding.

       "Well…I guess the reason I agreed to all this, is because I was not happy on Evermeet."

       "And what makes you think that you will be happy here?" she pressed.

       "I don't know that I will be, but it will be different, at least.  How can I know until I try?"  I was beginning to grow annoyed at her persistent questions.

       "How can you know, indeed?  You do know exactly what kind of school this is?"

       "A school for every race, and all peoples," I replied.

       "And as a teacher here, do you think that you will be able to handle dealing with all sorts of children?  Teaching human and dwarven children, along with elves?"

       "I don't even know exactly what it is you want me to teach here, so how can I possibly answer your question?" I retorted.  

       "Fair enough, I guess.  But there are certain rules that you, as with every other teacher here, will be expected to follow.  You must treat all of the children the same, singling no one out for special or harsh treatment because of what they may be."

       "Very well, I agree to it," I said quickly, wanting just to get this interview, or whatever it was over with.

       "So quickly!  Do you think you will be able to keep such a promise?" she asked.

       "My lady cousin, I shall certainly endeavor to try to keep my promise," I replied through gritted teeth.

       "Now, now, no need to get angry.  And I shall remember your promise.  Now, on to the matter of your teaching, and my son…now, have a seat," she told me, gesturing to a chair.  I sat down, and gestured for Sera to be seated as well, but rather than doing so, she was looking over at the baby on the floor.

       "Daddy, can I play with the baby instead?" she asked me.  

       "Sera, be polite.  This is the headmistress of the school that you will be attending," I told her, feeling rather unnerved by the familiar gleam in Sera's eyes…the expression of wanting something…which is an expression that I usually have a difficult time resisting.  

       "That's all right," Liralyn Sunstar said.  "We will have plenty of time to talk later, Sera, is it?"  Sera nodded.

       "If you promise to be careful, you may play with the baby.  He is my youngest son, and his name is Rylanil."  Sera promptly thanked Liralyn…thank the gods I have managed to instill some manners in her…and then turned her full attention on the infant.  Liralyn finally opened the note from the queen and quickly read over it.

       "According to this, my Nightstar cousin, you have a great skill in magic, and with the fires of the forge, in addition to some impressive battle skills, including having been trained in…Ruathym?  I would love to hear the story behind that," she commented.

       "Perhaps another time," I all but growled.  Talking about my training in Ruathym was not a subject that overly appealed to me.  My cousin continued on, saying that she would give me time slots to teach an elven brand of forging, which would work well, seeing as there were already two smithing classes, one taught by a human, and one by a dwarf.  She also stated that there were some older students in the school who would be interested in learning ancient elven history, and since my knowledge on the subject is formidable, I could do a class on that as well.  Finally, she decided that seeing as I had a great deal of combat and weapon experience, and more than a bit of knowledge on the "barbarian" fighting styles, that I could certainly help the melee instructors with some of the students that had come from similar backgrounds: the Uthgardt barbarian children, the north folk from near the spine of the world, and the lone boy who'd come from Rashemi, which I gather is another country and culture where berserkers are common, though I have never heard of it.  She finished, telling me that she thought that three different types of classes were enough, seeing as this would be my first time teaching any one.  I did not voice my doubts as to my ability to convey my knowledge to a bunch of children.  The queen had given me this task, after all, and I meant to fulfill it to the fullest extent of my ability.

       Liralyn then went on to discuss the subject of Sera.  She told me that she would speak with Sera and come up with a schedule of courses to best fit my dragon daughter's interests.  I asked whether or not there would be a problem, considering Sera's true race, but Liralyn waved the question away, saying that having an actual dragon at the school would be an excellent thing for the other students; that Sera's presence would expose the others to a dragon for the first time, and allow them to see that dragons are not all monsters out of bards' stories.  As for my worries about Sera's well being, she assured me that she and the other teachers would make certain that Sera, as with the other children in the school, did not suffer anything for her differences. Liralyn went on to add that Sera, with her long life expectancy, would do well to learn early on how to deal with the others races…adding that for learning, there were few schools in the world with a finer set of teachers.  I personally thought that the last was a bit of boasting on her part, but did not bother to disagree, as I happened to agree that this would be a good experience for my daughter.

       Finally, my cousin grew a bit quieter as we addressed the subject of her son.

       "As I am certain you have noticed, I have several children…seven to be exact.  Zelairwyn is my oldest, and he is the one whom the queen is most worried about."

       "And why is she worried about him? She said herself that he cannot possibly inherit, not with his being Ar'Tel Quessir." I asked.  Liralyn sighed.

       "I know, but for all that, the Queen worries that there are still those who would see my son as a threat.  Until recently, this was not much of a problem.  I have always been able to protect Zelairwyn myself, or at the very least keep him in a place where he was protected.  The problem is that he is older now…and very upset.  You see, I had him in a school in Evereska for a time, while I was adventuring…he was happy there.  But then the disaster occurred, and though his school was not destroyed, I took him out of Evereska, and brought him here, where we were beginning the construction on Everall.  Zelairwyn, I think, thought this would only be a temporary arrangement…but well, with what happened…his returning to Evereska is not an option.  Neither will I consider his going to Evermeet.  I cannot think that even Evermeet is safe, not with the attacks that happened there…especially after learning of the betrayal of Kymil Nimesin, and his murders of the royal family members.  As I once told the queen, I will not risk my son's life.  I feel safest with him near me, where I can find him, knowing that the people protecting him are my friends.  The problem is that as he gets older, Zelairwyn wishes to do things his own way.  More and more he has begun to defy me.  He's even gone so far as to leave the school, and go to other cities in the dalelands.  He believes that he has nothing left to learn from the teachers here.  I don't know what to do with him.  And I suppose that is why you were sent…to keep an eye out on my son…to keep him from getting into trouble.  Although I hardly know why the queen thinks that you will be able to keep Zelairwyn from folly any better than I can on my own" 

       "I don't know exactly what the queen, or you, expect me to do." I confessed.  "I can try to keep an eye on him, but it won't be possible for me to watch him every minute."

       "I know," Liralyn sighed.  "For the most part of the day, he is fine…kept in school, but it is when school is done that I have trouble with him.  To that end, and to enable you to keep your vow to the queen, I have decided that you and Sera will reside here. My home is quite large, and there is more than enough room for you.  And that way, you will be able to keep watch on Zelariwyn while he is here."

       "If that is what you wish, than I guess that is what I must do," I replied, not overly happy about the situation. It finally began to occur to me that, like my naïveté about Sera when she was first hatched, that trying to protect an elven youth who did not wish that protection would be harder than I thought.  Still, it was my task, and if I had to do what my father, Brander had done to me, and keep the boy busy every free moment he had, to keep him safe, then that is what I would have to do…although I admit, it will probably not win me his high regards.         

        After our little chat, Liralyn abandoned her paperwork and led Sera and myself to the westernmost portion of the house.  She claimed that all of the rooms in the section were unused but for the occasional guest.  She bade Sera and I choose several rooms which would comprise our" home" while we were at the school.  She left us to settle in, adding that dinner would be served in the dining hall on the first floor, an hour after sunset.  She also mentioned that we would tour the school on the morrow.

            It took me far less time to unpack than Sera.  My weapon went on racks on the wall, and my clothing into one of the several wardrobes in the rooms.  Several servants came to assist, and ask

if there was anything we needed.  I waved away their help…it will be a sad day when I cannot hang up my own clothing, after all.  But I did request a bath, thinking that I may as well attempt to clean up before dinner.

       One of the servants led me to a small bathroom connected to the suite of rooms.  A large tub was set into the floor of the room, and there was a small crystal decanter and a stone box on a table next to it.   The decanter was a magical item that was not unknown to me.  Often referred to as a "decanter of endless water," all one had to do was remove the stopper and speak the command word, and a stream of pure water would issue forth, never stopping until the command word was once more issued. The water is rumored to come from the Elemental plane of water, the place where water elementals lived, which was entirely comprised of water.

       The stone box contained a smooth, red crystal, which emanated heat.  The servant explained the command words for both items, and then, at my insistence, departed to fins some other chore.

       After washing up fairly quickly, and dressing in some clean clothing, I went over to Sera's room, to tell her to get ready for dinner.  

       At first I thought her door was locked, but after a moment, realized that it was been barred from within.  

            "Sera!" I called.  "Open the door."  

"Um...one minute,"  I heard her muffled voice reply. Several minutes later, after the sounds of things being moved, the door opened.  I stepped in, looking around to see what she was up to.

       In an hour's time, Sera had managed to cause a disaster in her room.  Not of small size, mind you, she had nearly filled every available bit of space in the room. She had, apparently, pulled every item she owned out of her bags, and was trying to decide where to put it all.  The door had not been barred, per se, but she'd stacked so much up against it that she hadn't been able to get the door open, easily.

       "Sera, what have you done?!" I thundered at her.  My daughter hardly batted an eyelash.

       "I'm trying to put my things away," she explained, as she turned to dig through a pile of clothing.  "And I can't find my blue dress."

       "Put things away?! An explosion could not have caused as much of a disaster in here, as you have!"  At that point, my ears picked up the sound of a faint "mewing" from somewhere in the room.  It took me a moment to locate Sera's cat, Pixie, all but buried beneath a stack of dolls and toys.

       "Oh there she is!' Sera exclaimed, reaching for Pixie as I pulled the cat out of her prison by the scruff of her orange neck.

       "Sera, we are due to be downstairs in less than an hour," I explained to her.

       "I can't go to dinner without my dress," she replied.

       Then wear a different one!" I pointed at the rainbow of dresses she had thrown on her bed.

       "I want to wear my blue one," she stated stubbornly crossing her arms.

       "Which blue one?" I asked exasperatedly.  "You have at least a dozen blue dresses!"

       She could not seem to explain to me exactly which dress she wanted, saying only that she would know which one it was when she saw it.  By the time we had finished searching for her dress, and putting all of her things in some semblance of order, the hour for dinner had long passed.  Just as we were finally ready to go downstairs, there was a knock on the door.  

       It proved to be another servant, bearing a large tray of food, and a message from Liralyn.  My cousin stated that she was sorry that we had missed dinner, but understood that after so much traveling we probably wished to rest, and that it had been insensitive of her to expect us downstairs.  Hence the tray of food was brought so that we would at least have had something to eat.

       Needless to say, Sera was upset that we had missed eating downstairs, for we had finally found her dress, and she had wanted to impress everyone.  I resisted the urge to remind her that if she had waited for me to help her, we would not have had such trouble repairing the damage. 

       All things considered, however, it was probably a good thing that we missed dinner, for by the time the day was coming to a close, I was not in the best of moods and would have been poorer company than usual.  So after eating I bit, I put Sera and her annoying cat to bed, and proceeded to drop straightaway into reverie.


	9. Chapter 9

This newest chapter is probably my shortest yet, but it is all I have typed at the moment, and am posting it as I have received pleas for a bit more of the tale.  I shall try to post it as fast as I write it, but I won't post a section until it is 30 or more pages, so I ask that you be patient a bit more.  I have the rest of the plot worked out, now it is just a matter of time, inspiration, and typing.  Enjoy.  Azurielle

The next day dawned bright and clear, as we were led the short distance to the school by Liralyn.  She gave Sera and I the grand tour of the Everall school, introducing us to many of the teachers.  Sera was quite ecstatic for they had no less than 7 different teachers dealing with the arcane arts.  The four we met were comprised of two humans, a very elderly gold elven woman, and…believe it or not, a dwarven woman.  The humans were Courun Ilbraith who taught general magic proficiencies and knowledge, and Lavender Feya, an exquisitely lovely enchanter, who had a sort of otherworldly air about her.  The elf was a former resident of Evereska, a commoner by the name of Shelinda Liosellen.  She taught Abjuration, protection magic, and she was a thousand, if she was a day.  Still, she was quite respectful, and proper, and seemed excited over Sera's becoming her student.  As I watched the elven woman speak with my daughter, however, I noticed how worn and frail she seemed…her gold skin almost translucent.  I knew that she was very close to Arvandyr…and I wondered if that was how I had looked a few years ago, back before I'd reforged the Fury of Battle.

       Then there was the dwarf.  Needless to say, after my failures with Hank and Ranon…it seems so long ago…I was a bit leery of meeting another one…especially another unconventional dwarf.  After all, I have never heard of dwarves using magic.  As a matter of fact, I'd always been told that they were unable to do so, having very little connection to the weave.  When I met Miss Joylin Earthfast of Mirabar, I mentioned my having heard this fact to her.  She did not seem insulted, or bothered much by the remark.  She wasn't very old for a dwarf, but I didn't really think she was young either.  Her long brown hair had no gray in it…and oddly enough, she had no beard.  I'd always thought all dwarves…even the women had beards.  Joylin confirmed my guess on her age a moment later when she replied to my comment.

       "Well, Nightstar, you're right that in ages past, most dwarves, being the sensible folk we are, wouldn't have touched magic.  It just wasn't done, and furthermore the number of us what had the skill was minute.  Then, about 1306, dalereckoning, the Thundering occurred."

       "The…thundering?" I asked, curiously.

       "Aye, the Thunder Blessing, bestowed upon the dwarven people by our Father, Moradin.  As you probably know, the dwarves, like your own folk, have never been particularly… fertile," she explained.  If only, I thought to myself, ruefully, the elves were not quite as…fertile with humans.  But I suppose I cannot really regret Kelly that much.  Rosaleen seems to love her, and she has actually caused little enough trouble for me.  But rather than continuing on with my thoughts, I refocused my attention on Joylin. After all, the dwarves may not be my favorite people in the world, but that does not mean I should be ruse…I had asked, after all.             

           "Well, in His infinite wisdom, Moradin blessed we dwarves with the Thundering.  After that our birthrate just got higher and higher.  And for as many single babes that were born, there were Thunder twins to match.  The Thunder twins are all dwarves who are particularly blessed by Moradin, as many of them have magical skill, and courage enough to learn to use it…like myself and my sister," Joylin finished.  

       "Ah, now I understand," I told her, although I still wondered how it was that a dwarven god had imbued his people with magic…but with the deities, I suppose anything is possible. 

       Joylin went on to explain that she specialized in teacher Conjuration and Transmutation magic…basically, she summons things and turns rock to mud, and the like.  If Sera's interest turned in that direction of magic, it would be from Joylin she would be learning.

       Sera did not seemed bothered by this, and indeed, seemed quite fascinated with Joylin.  I am not certain how well she remembers Hank or Ranon, so I don't know if her interest in Joylin stemmed from her being a dwarf, or her use of magic.  Still, she has never met a dwarven woman…nor had I for that matter…and Joylin certainly was…unusual.

       Liralyn informed me that the rest of the magic instructors would be returning in a week or two, closer to the start of the term.  Among them were a gnome illusionist…typical, a human who focused mostly on divination, and a bit on Necromancy, a ½ bronze dragon who worked with the sorcery-skilled children, and an elven Evocation master.  

       Strange, that while my cousin went into great detail about the other teachers, she spoke very little about the elven one…I wonder why.

       I met dozens of people over the course of the day…most of whom welcomed me with smiles and handshakes.  I was not used to such…well…friendliness.  I think that I might not have made a very good impression, for I was slow to react to their welcome.

       My fellow smithing instructors, with whom I would be sharing the forge, proved to be a human and a dwarf… unsurprisingly.

       The human, Tully Thistledown was a few inches shorter than I am, but broader than me by half…and believe me, I am not that small.  He had dark brown hair that more resembled a mop than hair and a mustache that seemed to cover half his face.  I can still recall being back on Ruathym, and knowing that my lack of facial hair had the Ruathym thinking that I would never be a "man."  I remember being angry about it then…and yet now, I can't imagine what it must be like to have bristly fur all over one's body…and having to scrape it away with a knife blade if you didn't like it.  Working in the forge, I mused, having so much hair was surely a fire hazard, but it did not seem to bother Tully much.

       Nor did it seem to hinder my other fellow smith, who had a flame-red beard that went down to his knees, even after he'd tucked it into his belt.  Magnar Lodestone, however, didn't seem the type to be bothered by very much at all.

       Unlike Tully, Magnar instantly let me know that he had no trouble making himself heard.  After giving me a critical once over, he held out a meaty hand to me.  When I accepted it, he squeezed tightly, testing me I suppose.  Well accustomed to this game, for it had been a favorite on Ruathym, I merely squeezed back, not wincing once, even when I heard my joints pop.

       "Well, ye're no weakling, that's for certain," Magnar declared upon releasing my hand. "But can ye work the forge?" He asked.  Before I could respond, the dwarf, whose head stopped just short of my upper torso, demanded to see some of my work.  Not having planned for such a thing, I had nothing with me, save for the Fury of Battle, which was stored safely in my enchanted glove.  I snapped it out, and gave it over to him.  He turned it over, looking down the length of the blade, running one stubby finger along the mithral traceries on the steel.

       "Odd…" he muttered.  "Don't look much like straight elven work at all, does it.  Bit o' dwarven skill here by the handle…the blade's human work for certain…northern work at that…but the tracery, and the magic…that all has an elven feel to it."  He then handed my sword back to me.

       "Fine piece of work…can hardly tell that it was ever broken."  

       "How did you know it was broken?" I demanded, annoyed.  

"There's not a mark on the blade…it's perfectly balanced!"   

"Now, now, don't get yerself worked up, laddie," Magnar held up his hands.  "It's only that I recognize the sword…pops up in dwarven history a time or two.  Thought how you managed to find and reforged the Fury of Battle is a tale I'll have to hear sometime.  As for yer work, well, it's fine enough, it is…although, for meself, I'd like know where you picked up so many styles.  Rumor has it you trained with the north folk…Luskan is it?"

"Ruathym," I all but growled.

" Ah…knew it was one of the two," Magnar nodded sagely, ad though he didn't realized I had been insulted.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the quiet Tully was trying his best not to laugh. 

Before I had a chance to say anything more, Liralyn all but dragged me off, saying that there was still much to see, and barely enough hours in the day left to see it all in.  

She showed us nearly everything at the school, discussing the various courses of study offered.  Nearly every basic type of adventuring profession was covered…easy enough I suppose, for many of the teachers had been members of Liralyn's old adventuring group, The Myth Knights.   I thought ruefully back on my former adventuring party, and how Lita joked once that the party's name should be " five guys without a clue."  How very true her statement was.  

       Then, almost as though she'd been reading my thoughts, Liralyn asked about them…my adventuring group, that is.  As a bard, she was more skilled than Tobias, for she managed to pry bits of information out of me that I did not even wish to think about.  When I finally answered the bulk of her questions to her satisfaction, Liralyn shook her head.

       "You see, my Nightstar cousin?  That situation…the distrust, the ignorance you all had for each other…that is the very thing we are trying to stop here, at Everall.  Think of it…all of the great wars, and battles fought…even as recent as the battle at Evereska…the Dragon war in Cormyr…if all of the races had worked together evil might have been defeated so much quicker!  Look at the battle for Mithral Hall!  The story goes that the combined forces of the dwarves, the barbarians of Settlestone, and the forces of Silverymoon defeated a drow host bent on destruction!  If we can but take that foundation and build on it, using the ideals of Myth Drannor and Silverymoon…just think of the differences it will make!"  I could tell by her voice that she was excited, that this dream of hers was an all-consuming passion.  She truly thought that her plan at the school would make a difference.  I had to admit that I admired her determination, and, to a degree, envied her strength of belief.  I believed in so few things…and certainly nothing with the surety, and the fire of my fair cousin!  And yet, as much as the ideals were worthy, and as much as I wanted to believe it could happen, her words, spoken so convincingly in a bard's manner, I could not ignore the lessons taught me by the past.  The goal that Myth Drannor had strived for had failed, not only because of inner turmoil, but because such a thing as the unification of the races is not something that the forces of evil wish for.  Dissention is how darkness gets its foothold, and isolation is how evil groups like the Zhentarim and the drow have endured.  And I wondered, just whose ire would Everall attract?  And when?

       Yet for all of these thoughts, I said nothing.  After all history may repeat itself…but if we learn from it…who knows?  I am no diviner, to predict the future…no Alaundo.  Like all mortals, I can but watch, and by the queen's command, I will do what I may to make it work.  And judging by the people I have met thus far, I am not the only one.

       For the rest of the tour, Liralyn showed us the ins and outs of the buildings, speaking to me quietly about the defenses around and on the school.  Most of the defenses were magical in nature, but she and others had convinced various guardians of varying power to keep watch on the school.  Several of the guardians, she told me, were dragons.

       Cautiously, I asked what type of dragons, and she told me that they numbered a bronze, and gold, and an emerald dragon among them.  No silver.  I wasn't certain whether to be relieved or dismayed.  After all, I do want Sera to learn about her draconic heritage, but at the same time, there is a fear within me, that if I let her learn, she will leave me.  I cannot say what such a thing might do to me, only that it could never be good.  But thankfully, for now, the point is moot and to be put off until an indeterminate time in the future.

       Later that night, at Liralyn's home, Sera and I met more of my cousin's children…including Zelairwyn. Two of the children, a son, Rhylaun, and a daughter, Lauralen, were away, visiting with their fathers and would return at the start of school.  I'd already met the "door elf," young Leithanis, and the infant, Rylanil.  That left 3 others…Zelairwyn, Mistlyn, and Kailen.  

Kailen, at a mere 6 years old, was actually a half-elf…yet one more example of members o my family getting…into trouble, with humans.  Still, he was polite enough, and reminded me a bit of my little brother.  

Mistlyn, a girl, was a few years older, and definitely showed signs of having a Sy Tel'Quessir, a sylvan elf for a father, with bright red hair and tanned skinned.  She was very quiet, however, and would not meet my eyes.

Judging by the wide variety of appearances her children have, I seriously doubt that any two of them share the same father.  It seems that my cousin is rather…fond of male company.  To be fair, one could probably surmise that she sought comfort over the loss of the Prince, so long ago…and yet somehow, knowing women as I have come to know them, I doubt it.

Then there was Zelairwyn.  He came late to the table, with a frown on his face.  I gathered from Liralyn that he'd been confined to the grounds after his last escapade, which involved a jaunt down to Archendale…quite alone and quite against his mother's wishes.  The boy had shoulder-length black hair, ink-glossy and tied in a tail at the nape of his neck.  Already, he was nearer to six feet than five, something he'd most assuredly inherited from the Moonflower side of his family.  However, with his golden skin and silver eyes, it was equally clear whom his mother was.

He slumped into his chair ungracefully, and picked at his dinner.  When Liralyn introduced him to Sera and myself, he looked up long enough to glare, even as he nodded a greeting.  Great, I thought at that moment.  As though this task wasn't going to be hard enough, the brat seemed as though he was prepared to be difficult.  Still, in him I saw a measure of my own anger, my dismay with my parents' decisions for me…both my elven parents, and the Windreiver's.  And I decided that I had to try to handle the whole situation very carefully.  After all, hadn't I bolted under restrictions that I'd felt confining?  I had to assume that Zelairwyn Sunstar would do the same.  But just how I was going to be able to befriend him, when the few friends I have, I am still bewildered as to why I have them, is beyond me.

The next few days passed quickly enough, with Sera and I settling in to our new home.  I was given a small workshop in the smithing building, and my two fellow teachers there informed me that the shipment of metal they were expecting for the coming school season would be arriving soon.  Magnar added, in a voice bursting with anticipation, that they would finally be getting some interesting materials to work with…beyond the usual steel, irons, copper silver, and gold.  He'd ordered some fever iron and icesteel from his cousins, near Sundabar, and he'd even managed to get his hands on a bit of Adamantine and Mithril.  I have to admit, the prospect of working with new metals was intriguing tome, as well, but how I'm going to teach children how to do likewise is something I am still working on.  I'm thinking that I will watch Tully and Magnar and see what they do first.

In the large learning hall, where the knowledge skills, reading writing, languages, and such are taught, I was given a small classroom where I would be teaching elven history.  I shared the room with a halfling woman named Lyly, who teaches basic reading and writing, and other practical skills, like cooking.  She was about middle age, for a halfling, although what that is in actual years, I do not know, and was not impolite enough to ask.  As I was putting some of the books I'd brought with me from home, all of elven history, of course, I couldn't help staring at Lyly.  Something about halflings fascinate me.  They are so tiny, Lyly is no bigger than Sera…the top of her head does not even reach my waist…and yet she looked just like a tiny replica of a full-grown human woman.  It's fascinating…and sometimes I wonder why the gods chose to make the races of the world so very different from one another.

Still, Lyly seems quite pleasant…although she has already developed a habit for treating me as though I am a youth, calling me "dear, boy," and glaring at me if I forget to wipe my boots off before entering her pristine classroom.  

And finally, I met with the instructors in charge of the various battle forms, early yesterday morning...with whom I am to be assisting.

As a group, they varied widely, and I wondered how in the world they all managed to get along.

There was Vartyn Brindylow, a grizzled little gnome fighter who was an original member of the Myth Knights.  He favors the simple weapons, like slings and staves, but also seems quite adept at the use of the shortsword. 

West Greaycastle was a human with short, closely cropped brown hair, and a very serious demeanor.  A devout follower of the gods Torm and Tyr, he reminded me more than a little of Calvin, although unlike Calvin, this human was younger, and placed more value on ground fighting, and the various martial arts.

Rogan Merillon arrived a bit later than the others, aimlessly spinning an arrow shaft between his finger.  Browned skin, rust colored hair, and a slight tilt to his hazel eyes allowed that he had some sylvan elf blood.  I gathered from the others that Rogan was a man of few words, but that if it could be shot, hurled, pitched, or slung in any manner, Rogan was the man to do it.

More familiar to me were Bran Stormwind and Kellenes Dakarios.  Bran was a northman, blond and broad, from an area called Ten-towns, up by the spine of the world.  He reminded me keenly of the Ruathym folk, only he soon proved to be far more articulate, more willing to learn new things.  He was not young, but I doubt that he'd seen his thirtieth year, either.  He chatted briefly with me, a great axe resting easily across his back.  He told me that he'd come to the school for a desire to learn…that he'd been one of the very first students.  After learning how much more to the world there was than raiding and following the orders of shaman and chieftain, he decided to stay on, and teach…to try to persuade other barbarian youths, like himself, to come here and learn as well.  He added that he thought if the tribes could only learn, their lives would be so much greater.  I quickly saw that he must have been an early convert of my cousins, so great was his desire for unity among the races.  He, apparently was the one whom I would be assisting with.  He'd managed to convince several boys from his own home, as well as a boy from Rashemi, and two more from among the Uthgardt to come to the school…and it would be up to Bran and I to convince to teach them their home-styles of fighting, as well as encourage them to learn other styles…and to learn more than just fighting, at that.  Bran added that he was anxious to see a bit of my style.  He'd never been to Ruathym, he told me, but the prowess of the sea-raiders was legendary, and he was never to old to learn new things, he added.

Kellenes Dakarios was a moon elf, one of my own, although he'd never been t Evermeet, he told me.  Small, and slight, he was only a little more than five feet tall.  He specialized in two weapon fighting, and taught those who wished to learn, to use both hands equally during battle.  Being that he's ranger, it is unsurprising that he should know such skills.  Kellenes had long, dark hair, and typical moon elven-blue eyes, and moved like a cat.    Yet, as he spoke to me, asking questions, and answering my own, I sensed a tenseness in his manner towards me…and I don't know why.  Perhaps it is because I am a noble, or perhaps that I look so different from most elves…but it was there.  I did not imagine it.  The tenseness got worse when he mentioned that his brother, Kalanas was also a teacher here…the evocation teacher, in fact.  Odd.

The one woman there was Torienne Swiftblade, another halfling.  I confess, I chuckled when I saw her join the group.  She strode up to me as soon as I did, and glared up at me.  She was a pretty doll f a halfling, with gold curls, and sky-blue eyes.  She demanded what I thought was so amusing.  I shrugged, and asked her if she was in the right place…that the cooking building was on the other side of the school.  I know…stupid, right?  But sometimes I can't help my chauvinism.  I knew I'd made a mistake the moment that all my fellow males groaned, and took a few steps back, away from me.

The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back, on the ground, my head ringing from a connection with the hard-packed dirt of the tilting yard, with a very sharp dagger pricking a very…sensitive portion of my anatomy.

"I'm here to teach the students…and the rest of you over-grown rocks humility…and the merits of a stealth and a dagger over roars and an axe," the vicious little doll informed me with a smile.  The laughs of my fellows caused my ears to burn, my face to flush pale blue…but I did not summon my anger, for I knew that, in truth, I'd deserved it for my foolish presumption. Lita, I think, would have done far worse than merely knock me down.

At that point, another voice cut in on the moment.

"Ah…come now, Torienne, my dear…leave the new one alone.  We are all well aware of your skills.  Forgive him." The voice was cultured, and articulate, as the speaker lent me his hand to get up.  When I straightened, and saw the speaker's face, I swear my jaw must have dropped out of shock.

The man speaking was a half-orc!

I tensed, but did nothing…after all, I had been warned that _all races were included at the school…but a half-orc...and one who did not speak like a simple-brained fool was something I had not expected._

Then I took in a bit more of his appearance.  The man wore half-plate armor, gleaming and brightly polished in the morning sun.  Over the armor was a tabard, adorned with the symbol of Tempus, embroidered onto the fabric.  His wide face bore the stamp of both human and orc heritage, but he was neatly groomed, his black hair combed and short.  In short, I realized, he was a paladin of Torm.  Imagine!   A half-orc paladin!

"I am Harl Fangsson, and you must be Keledrial Nightstar."  I nodded mutely, probably looking like a fool.

I quickly learned that Harl was the unofficial leader of all the fighter teachers.  His very aura commanded respect, and the others seemed to have no difficulty in accepting this…and though I have always been taught that orcs are enemies, I felt the same way.  This was a man that others would follow…like Calvin could have been with but a bit more effort.  Harl's style of teaching focused more on mounted combat and mounted archery.

After the initial meeting, I went through a test of sorts.  What this means is that I was made to fight all of them in one manner or another.  Harl explained that this was so they could gage my skills, and where I could best be assistance.  Although my cousin had stated I would specifically be aiding with the barbarian teacher, I soon learned that among this group of warriors, they decided who would do what.

I was not required to battle Torienne again, for it was already proven that she could defeat me…although, in my defense, she surprised me.  I was evenly matched with most of them…Kellenes, Bran, West, and Vartyn.  Harl defeated me, much to my annoyance, and my archery skills were passable, Rogan declared, but I was nowhere near his skill.

It was finally decided that I would aid those teachers concerned with melee ground fighting, assisting them with students.

After the meeting, which did not go too horribly, although my muscles ached from the workout I'd just gone through, Harl drew me aside. 

"I've heard that you brought a horse with you…a great back beast, smart as anything."

"That is true," I replied, marveling once more that I was conversing with a half-orc…and more, that I did not feel hostile towards him.

"Grim was telling me about him…said the horse seems to be able to get out of any confines."

"He is half-moonhorse," I explained.  "And his sire was no fool either."

"I was wondering if I might ask a boon, then.  Grim has told me that your horse is a stallion, and I have watched the animal.  I would be interested in breeding him with a mare I have.  My own steed was killed earlier this year, and I have not had occasion to replace him.  A foal from your horse might serve admirably."

"You…**want **a foal of Lshrael's?" I asked, astounded.

"Why wouldn't I?" he replied, curiously.  "The horse is quite magnificent."  I laughed.

"Tell that to the people on Evermeet!  His sire caused more trouble for me…no body wanted any of the foals…so my family has a stable of the black spawn.  Well, if you want a foal, be my guest.  I vow that Lashrael 2 will not complain," I told him.  

"Excellent," the half-orc grinned.  "I shall go to speak with Grim about it directly."  He walked off towards the direction of the stables.  

How very odd, I thought.  Imagine someone actually **wanting **my horse to mate with theirs! I am beginning to think, that, unusual or not, this place might not be so bad.

I cannot believe this place!  Or the foolishness…nay the sheer idiocy of my cousin, and the other teachers here!  Especially my cousin! I do not understand why people have such a hard time understanding that drow…are…evil!!  The entire race is evil, just as the duergar dwarves are evil, just as orcs are evil!  And yet, where nearly everyone else in the world knows that drow are dangerous, know that they should be avoided or killed, here, at the Everall school of fools, they have not only invited a drow into the school, but have allowed him to teach as well.  The Evocation teacher of things! Now I know why Kellenes Dakarios was so nervous when he mentioned his "brother."  I would be nervous as well if I were insane enough to call a drow elf "brother."

And as though this was not bad enough, the students have begun to arrive…and there are no less than three drow children among them!  To make matter still yet more horrible, one of them carries the name Rhylaun Sunstar…my cousin's second born son…who just happens to be the son of the Evocation teacher as well.  My first assumption was rape…after all, certainly no such child could be born to a gold elf willingly…or so I thought.

My assumption, naturally, was proved wrong.  Because it is, of course, perfectly normal in this day and age, for Ar-Tel Quessir to willing take a Seldarine-cursed **drow **as a lover!!  

Naturally, when I first saw Kalanas Dakarios walking through the school, openly…I thought I was hallucinating… surely such a thing could not be happening!  And yet, no matter how many times I blinked, or the number of times I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, there he remained.  He wore plain clothing, breeches, a vest with many pockets, and a white linen shirt, but despite the attempt at normalness, the white hair and black-as-sin skin gave away his true nature. Certain I had to act, I stalked towards him, snapped the Fury of Battle into my hands, feeling sure that my sword would taste the blood of the hated drow for the first time.  

I kept the grin from my face as I approached, with him still unaware.  I almost smiled when he turned and saw me, golden eyes widening in shock.  His fingers flashed through the motions of a spell…a hold person spell.  My moved to match his, as my counter spell caused his to fail.  I raised my sword, about to bring it down, knowing that, even as he tried get off an armor spell, that he would not be able to cast it in time.

What I did not expect was that I would be tackled moments before my victory, by no less than four people.  Bran Stormwind, Harl Fangsson, Mallorn Nightstar, and Fiarosyllaen the ½ dragon sorcerer grabbed me, forcing me to the ground.  I struggled to get up, roaring, my muscles straining to throw them off.   Their voices shouting in my ears, I couldn't hear what they were saying, I was that close to the border of rage.  My mind cleared when I felt the distinctive point of a blade against my throat.  Glaring down at me, his longsword held steady at my throat, Kellenes Dakarios looked very angry.

"Leave him alone, Nightstar," Kellenes growled, trying to sound dangerous.  I was less than impressed.  I'd gone easy on him earlier…but in the face of my rage, I would have cut the deluded bastard down in a trice.

"Keledrial," I finally heard Harl speak, urgently.  "Kalanas is one of us…one of the teachers.  He is not evil, and he will not harm you."

"Nay, he won't, for I'll kill him first," I threatened.  

" You so much as touch my brother and I'll cut you apart, you intolerant bastard!" Kellenes dug the point of his longsword in a bit deeper, drawing blood.

"Kellenes," the drow spoke for the first time, laying a dark hand on the moon elf's shoulder.  " That's enough.  No harm has been done, and it is not as though I am unused to such reactions." 

"You shouldn't have to be "used" to such reactions," Kellenes snapped, glaring at me all the while.  "Some elves," he met my eyes, " should pay better attention to their history, that they might know of Elistraee, She who guides all good drow."

"I know my history, traitor," I replied.  "I just happen to think the part about Elistraee is over-exaggerated.  After all, if she had no guilt in the attack on Corellon, her own father, then why would she have left the Seldarine, when in doing so she made any of her so-called "good drow" followers outcasts along with her?"

"Because she wanted to fight Lolth and Vhaeraun where she would do the most good…among them.  If she hadn't the dark drow would have spread across Faerun like a plague of darkness," Kellenes' hand tightened perceptively around the hilt of his sword, already pale knuckles turning white from the strain.  He wanted to kill me…I could sense it.

"Isn't that a convenient answer, especially when she has been so very…ineffective at such a task," I taunted him.  The tension between he and I was so tense that it was all-but tangible.  

"That's enough!" the drow finally said, exasperated.  He grabbed the blade of Kellenes' sword and jerked it away from my throat, cutting himself in the process.  He looked down at me, wrapping his wounded hand with a cloth from his pocket.

"Look, I do not ask that you accept me, or believe me…only know that I am here because I believe in the teachings of the Everall school.  I mean no harm to anyone in it, including you.  And while I do not expect friendship, what I do expect is that you hold to the oath you gave to the headmistress upon your arrival to show no prejudice, regardless of race."

"I did not know that there were drow here when I made it," I sneered.

"Nevertheless," Harl stated, from where he had my right arm pinned. "It is an oath we all gave, and you are honor-bound to keep it, as are we all."  

"Let me up," I muttered, knowing that they had me trapped by my own vow.  When they hesitated, I all but roared as I repeated,

"Let me **UP**!"  Slowly they relaxed their hold on me, and I was able to stand.  On my feet I towered over the dark elf, and if an expression could slay, the one on my face would have killed Kalanas Dakarios where he stood.

"I gave my word, and so I must keep it…but do I perceive any threat from you, your head will not sit long upon your shoulders," I warned him.  The dark elf nodded, a resigned look on his face.  Beside him, his "brother" was not so accepting of my words.

"Harm my brother, and there will be one less over-grown, ill-mannered "noble" in this world," he spoke the word noble as though it were a curse.  

"Here now, that's enough," Harl ordered.  "We've students arriving tomorrow and the last thing we need is to have you two at each other's throats."  Without another word, I snapped my sword back into my glove, and stormed off, getting as far away from the dark elf and those he'd managed to deceive, as possible.

Throughout the next few days, I had nearly every teacher I'd met, and some few I had not met, come up with ways to tell me what a "fine fellow," Kalanas Dakarios was…how he had never done one wrong thing since they'd met him…how he was a good father to his and Liralyn's son, Rhylaun…how if I would only give him a chance, I would see it too.  

Give him a chance!  Imagine!  And it was a dwarf who told me that!  Dwarves are supposed to hate the dark elves as much as any elf…maybe more, for it is their subterranean homes that the dark elves are constantly invading! How can people be so deluded?  They quote me tales of other "good drow"…the followers of Elistraee, many of whom live in the forest of Cormanthyr, some of whom can be found near Waterdeep, whose numbers grow daily.  While I cannot discount that such followers exist, what I doubted when I first met them, and still doubt, is their true intentions.  

They tell me of a northern dark elf, whose name I heard in Silverymoon, saying that this Do'Urden is renown for his great deeds.  I merely respond that the truth of a bard's tale is often over-exaggerated, and that this dark-elf is more likely a scout for some greater force, or at the very least has some ulterior motive in mind.  After all, change what you like about a person surrounds, but you can never change the ways they learned in their youth.     

My cousin Liralyn must have thought that learning about Kalanas and his "brother" would help me better accept them, and to that end, she sat with me after dinner, last night to speak of it.        I can't say as how much of the story is true, for after all, she is a bard and the dark elf's lover…or at least she once was.  Furthermore, she's female, and that makes her even more inclined to twist the truth…to flat out lie, when the situation calls for it.  

She told me how Kalanas had been born on the surface, the youngest of four, and the only boy.  His parents were followers of Elistraee.  A group of Lloth worshipping drow raiders came to the surface from a city called Ches Nasad.  The Elistraeens, caught unawares, were slaughtered, the children taken as slaves…Kalanas and his sisters among them.  Kalanas was only five years at the time.  She went on to explain that they'd been sold in the slave markets of Ches Nasad, to a vile Underdark merchant.  Also bought was Kellenes, whose elven family had also been slain by the raiders.  

The merchant had a fondness for pain, and abused both Kalanas and Kellenes, who, at the time, had no name that he could remember, the trauma of witnessing his parents murdered having driven it from his mind.  Liralyn claimed that the two boys were tortured more frequently, for they were too small to fight back.  Kalanas' sisters did not tolerate this long, being older, and protective.  They managed to slay the merchant, and escape Ches Nasad, taking their brother and Kellenes with them. They claim that Elistraee guided their way back to the surface, and to safety with another group of Elistraee worshippers.

After their short time as slaves, Kalanas and Kellenes became inseparable, both taking up the worship of the dark elven goddess, out of respect for what she had done for them.  Kellenes had chosen his name, so very close in sound to Kalanas, because of their closeness.  They'd been raised by foster parents from among the dark elves.

So, Liralyn tried to convince me that Kalanas had never known evil, save for what had been done to him by other dark elves.  He'd never even met a priestess of Lloth, she added.

It was an interesting tale.  I could only think that Tobias, with his penchant for believing nonsense, and his acceptance of the dark elves we'd met in Skullport, would certainly have been entertained by it…perhaps would have thought of a way to make it into a song, that he might bather on about it endlessly.  As for myself, I cared little.  The whole point of the telling was to try to convince me that Kalanas Dakarios was not evil, had not known evil...but who is to say that the followers of Elistraee are any better than the followers of Lloth?  Just because Elistraee puts on a fairer face, does not mean that she is any less devious than her mother, the goddess of lies and spiders.

The story did clear up the issue of Kellenes' warped loyalties and strange behavior, though.  A moon elf raised by dark elves…I shudder at the very thought of it.  And here I thought I had problems after living amongst humans, as one of them for so long. 

       School began half-a-ten day later.  Students began arriving in droves, some returning, laughing and talking with old friends…some new, staring wide-eyed at the buildings for the first time…and staring equally as stunned at their fellow students.  Even I was a bit shocked at seeing the Everall school filled with students for the first time.  Knowing that there would be all races here is one thing…seeing it is an entirely different tale.

       Dwarven children, of both genders, unbearded in their youth walked alongside thin elven children, not a one past, or even near their first century.  Tiny halfling children cavorted with human youths.  Gnomes, ½ orcs…even some that I would not have expected, a centaur, a few sprites, a red-haired youth who stood 7feet tall, and could not have been older than fourteen years, probably part giant was my assumption, and even a strange draconic looking creature that some one informed me was called a saurial.

       Fortunately, the first day for the students was spent settling into their rooms, choosing their classes, and then learning where said classes were.  That meant my teaching debut was postponed a bit longer.  

       At dinner that night, Sera babbled on ecstatically, about all the new people she'd met.  Liralyn's children, the ones old enough to attend school were just as bad.  Even Zelairwyn's habitual frown was not nearly as apparent, now that he had something to do.  

       However, and much to my dismay, Sera seemed to be growing quite friendly, not only with Liralyn's moon elven daughter, Lauralen, who was very nearly the same age, but also with the dark elf boy, Rhylaun.  The problem with the whole situation though, is that I cannot think how to dissuade Sera from being friends with Rhylaun Sunstar, seeing as if I forbid her to go near him, she will only see it as a challenge, and do just the opposite.  And naturally, no one but me sees any problem with it.  

       My first day teaching might have been a disaster, but for Magnar.  I was given opportunity to watch how he began his classes, and so I merely copied him as best I could…however, I found that I could not chatter on as though my breath was endless, as Magnar did.  

       I tried to remember how my father, Brander had taught me how to work at the forge.  Mostly, he had me work the bellows, and fetch and carry things for him, the first few years…but I knew that in this situation, things would be different.  I may have plenty of time to teach them, but their focus would not be wholly on smithing, for one thing, as mine was forced to be.  Furthermore, as there were 5 students in my class, I certainly couldn't have all of them work the bellows.  

       So, as Magnar did, I explained the uses for the tools, and had them work on learning to build a proper fire first.  After all, heating metal was crucial in the process of creating things out of it…and if they could not master fire, there was no point in me wasting my breath.

       I would like to say things were easy, and that, like Magnar, I did well, but I am not so certain.  When they filed into the forge area, five pairs of eyes staring up at me, all with the expressions of "well?"…my stomach began to clench.  I don't know what possessed me, or the queen to think that this would be a good idea.  I am not social.  I am not good with people.  The only way I make myself known is by being blunt.   I'm impatient.  I didn't see how this would possibly work.  I hardly know how it was I learned, let along how I would go about teaching others to do the same.

       And yet, just as I was beginning to panic, I thought back to my days on Ruathym.  I recalled the heat of the fire in the small room where my father worked.  I could hear Brander's voice, deep and confident as he showed me what to do, how to work the metal.  I remember the feel of his hands guiding mine, as I gripped the smithy hammer for the first time.  He'd never been one for words, never very patient, or easy, but when he was teaching me, his voice and his example showed me what to do.  And I learned.  I wondered for a moment how Brander must have felt.  Did he have doubts?  It could not have been any easier teaching me, than it would be for me to teach them.  These children, at least, had the desire to learn.  I had only feared…that the work would kill me, that the fire would burn me, that I would fail.  Not one of the sets of eyes that watched me showed any fear of failure.

       So I showed them what to do, using my words only to explain the reason for doing so.  They listened, and watched, and when I saw the desire to try appear, I backed away, and told them to do as I had done.

       They were varied, my class, two human a thin brown-haired boy who introduced himself as Jaelen Hawklight.  I quickly realized that this was the son of the red-haired thief, Rain, in my class as she warned me he might be.  He had a quick mind, and quick hands, and he was the first to get the fire going, the first to reach the required heat.  The other human was a girl with dark auburn braids.  Larger than Jaelen, Sorcha claimed she came from the north, in the Silver Marches, from the tribe of the Black Lion.  Her father was a blacksmith, and she wished to become one as well…only better.  She informed me that she meant to learn all forms of metal-working, and better at it than any man in her tribe.

       Besides the two humans, there was a sylvan elf boy, short with brown hair, and a blue line tattooed across his cheeks.  He called himself Talath, which translates to "fox child" in elven.  With his curious eyes, and his inability to keep still, I rather thought the name appropriate.

       There was a dwarf girl who came already wearing a smithy apron, with her own hammer and tongs in the pocket.  Morgana was her name, and she was there to see if elven work compared to dwarven, so she told me in a matter of fact sort of way.

       And then there was Cullen.  He stood far taller than any of the others, his head even above mine…it was not because he was particularly tall, but rather because from the waist down, he was a horse.  The centaur youth claimed that he'd come to the school to learn everything; that he liked the dagger his father gave him, which had been a gift of the wood elves, and so thought he might learn how to make daggers like it.  I found Cullen rather intriguing, for though there were centaurs on Evermeet, I'd never met one, only read about them.  Cullen's hair and coat were black as Lashrael 2's, but he seemed to be far better tempered than my horse.  I quickly realized that the anvils we had in the forge were going to be too low for him, and decided that I would have to speak with Tully and Magnar as to how we might remedy that.

       Finally, morning passed, and the lunch hour was upon us.  The students went on their way, and I went to find a place to have a bit to eat as well.  Sera was supposed to meet me for lunch, but my daughter stopped by long enough to inform me that she wanted to sit with all her new friends, asking me if it was all right.  I nodded my agreement, trying hard not to feel upset.  After all, it was good that Sera was making friends…and yet, her decision meant she was starting to grow up…that she didn't need me as much any more.  The thought was somewhat disheartening.  Sera really is the most important thing in my life…and I wondered how much longer it would be before I was no longer as important to her.  

       So I ate lunch alone…or rather, with only Sanhandrian for company, and my familiar spent more time chasing another squirrel up the tree we were near than anything else.

       For two hours following lunch, I was out on the tilting yard with Bran Stormwind, trying to explain the reasons for learning more than weapons to the children who'd come t the school from the "barbarian" cultures.  Bran was not having much luck, and I, even less, for they did not yet respect me, thinking that my elven blood made me "weak," a familiar, if somewhat long unheard sentiment.  The children made me remember my days on Ruathym…a good thing?  I cannot judge.  I am thinking, though that it will take some doing to convince these humans of the beliefs here...which, as I understand, the whole point.

       My final hours of class before the dinner hour was spent on my elven history class.  The class size was small, which is to be expected…I don't imagine that elven history...ancient history, at that is a subject that any child is interested in.  What I ended up with in my class were all older students.  3 elves, a human, and a gnome.  All but one of them were in training to be scholars or sages, with one of the elves to be a wizard.   They all came prepared with parchment and pen, and books…serious demeanors as they chose their seats.  As I began to speak, they all began scribbling notes down...all except one.  And that one glared at me with an angry intensity, arms crossed over his chest, slouched in his chairs, quill untouched, almost as though he was daring me to protest his behavior.

       That one was none other than Zelairwyn Sunstar. When I asked each of the students their reasons for choosing this class, as Lyly had suggested, each one of the others answered that they thought elven history to be a necessary and relevant part of their training.  Zelairwyn only muttered that he had had little choice in the matter.  I assume that his mother forced him to take the class, an action for which I cannot say that I thank her for, for he seems even more resentful than before.  As if this weren't going to be hard enough.


	10. Dramatis Personae

**Dramatis Personae**

**Keledrial's Family**

**Amentrine Nightstar**-younger sister, twin to Anarihne

**Anarihne Nightstar**-younger sister, twin to Amentrine****

**Arient Rumithamal** -uncle, husband to Halaema****

**Astianna Nightstar**-distant cousin****

**Baelwyn Silverspear**-moon elf-Rosealliele's Grandfather****

**Brander Windreiver**-human, adoptive father****

**Brandeth Nightstar-**moon elf-Rose and Keledrial's oldest son

**Cefwyn Nightstar**-maternal grandfather

**Elairwyn Nightstar**-moon elf-Rose and Keledrial's youngest son

**Halaema Nightstar**-aunt, mother's twin sister****

**Ingrid Windreiver**-human, adoptive mother****

**Kaithseraly Nightstar**-Keledrial's adopted, silver dragon daughter

**Kedriel Nightstar**-younger brother

**Kelly Vanus**-Keledrial and Rosaleen's 1/2 elven daughter

**Liralyn Sunstar**-distant cousin, daughter of Astianna  

**Loreleiana Moonflower**-Keledrial's former betrothed

**Mallorn Nightstar**-distant half-elven cousin, son of Astianna

**Orianna Rumithamal** -cousin, daughter of Halaema

**Rosealliele Silverspear**-Keledrial's wife****

**Saelihn Nightstar**-mother

**Solisila Silverspear**-moon elf-Rosealliele's Grandmother****

**Sylthas Rumithamal** -cousin, son of Halaema

**Sylvianna Nightstar-**moon elf**-**Rose and Keledrial's daughter

**Tiatha Hawksong**-paternal grandmother

**Trissendeyon**-Sera's silver dragon mate****

**Valorian Hawksong**-father

**The First Party**

**Calvin** **MacRoss**-human, paladin of Tyr, party member****

**Hank Granitebeard**-dwarf, dwarven druid, party member

**Lashrael**-Keledrial's 1st horse, a black stallion****

**Lita Ravenlight**-human, rogue, party member-Allianna's mother****

**Sanhandrian**-Keledrial's squirrel familiar****

**Ranon Thadeus**-dwarf, winged dwarven cleric of Beronar Truesilver, party member

**Tobias**/**Raede Elaernan**-moon elf, bard, party member****

****

**Random Cast**

**Allianna Ravenlight**-human-daughter of Lita****

**Azariah Craulnober**-moon elf-daughter of Elaith Craulnober****

**Celedor**-moon elf, priest of Corellon, Keledrial's confessor

**Darshaenalaxis**-silver dragon-Sera's birth mother****

**Eirik** **Ivarsson**-human,Keledrial's best friend on Ruathym

**Elaith "the Serpent" Craulnober-**moon elf-former captain of the 

king's guard of Evermeet, rogue moon elf in Waterdeep

**Evyth Amarillis**-moon elf-Rosealliele's former betrothed****

**Gareth Vanus**-human, husband to Rosaleen****

**James Vanus**-human-Rosaleen and Gareth's son****

**Ian Airksson-**human, Eirik's grandson, First axe of the southern villages****

**Lashrael 2**-Keledrial's 2nd horse, born of Lashrael and a moonhorse****

**Rosaleen Vanus**-human-bar wench-Keledrial's 1st lover, mother of Kelly

**Vaerosanarisyn**-silver dragon-Sera's birth father

**Royal Family Members of Evermeet**

**Amlaruil Moonflower-**moon elf**-**Queen of Evermeet****

**Amnestria Moonflower-**moon elf-deceasedprincess of Evermeet-

deceased****

**Ilyrana Moonflower-**moon elf-princess of Evermeet-deceased

**Lamruil Moonflower-**moon elf-Prince of Evermeet****

**Xharlion Moonflower-**moon elf-deceased prince of Evermeet, 

father of Zelairwyn Sunstar-deceased

**Zaor Moonflower**-moon elf-King of Evermeet-deceased

**Zhoron Moonflower**-moon elf-twin to Xharlion-deceased****

**The Sunstar family**

**Kailen Sunstar**-1/2 elf-Liralyn Sunstar's 4th son****

**Lauralen Sunstar**-moon elf-Liralyn Sunstar's 1st daughter****

**Leithanis Sunstar**-gold elf-Liralyn Sunstar's 3rd son****

**Liralyn Sunstar-**gold elf-mother of the7 Sunstar children****

**Mistlyn Sunstar**-sylvan elf-Liralyn Sunstar's 2nd daughter****

**Rhylaun Sunstar**-drow elf-Liralyn Sunstar and Kalanas 

Dakarios' son (2nd son)

**Rylanil Sunstar**-moon elf-Liralyn Sunstar's youngest son****

**Zelairwyn Sunstar**-gold elf-Liralyn Sunstar's eldest son, 

grandson of Amlaruil, Queen of Evermeet (1st son)

**Original party members of the Myth Knights**

**KerZeran Lorian**- human-wizard****

**Liralyn Sunstar**-gold elven bard

**Mallorn Nightstar**-1/2 elven bard/druid

**Torienne Swiftblade**-halfling rogue****

**Vartyn Brindylow**-gnome fighter****

**Yael Raurrock**-dwarven priest-moradin

**__**

**_Teachers at the Everall School_**

**Teacher: Name/race/classes taught**

**Balinor Broadaxe**/1/2 dwarf/stonemasonry, leatherworking, storytelling(ballads), human histories

**Bran Stormwind**/human/barbarian fighting, great axe, melee fighting, religion: Tempus

**Celinda Merrywyn**/halfling/halfling history, riding  

**Courun Ilbraith**/human/general magic, knowledges: geography, history, arcana, skill: cartography, religion-Mystra

**Fiarosyllaen**/1/2 bronze dragon/ sorcery, religion-Selune, language: Draconic, and Auran

**Grim Evenwood**/human/ranger skills, animal handling and empathy, riding, religion-Slyvanus and Meilikki

**Haydan Brambleway**/halfling/ languages: all, profession: potter, tanning, swimming, etc.****

**Harl Fangsson**/1/2 orc/Paladin- ranged fighting, mounted combat, religion-Torm, language: orcish

**Joylin Earthfast**/dwarf/Transmutation and conjuration magic, teran language

**Kalanas Dakarios**/drow elf/evocation magic, religion Eilistraee

**Keledrial Nightstar**/elf/elven smithing, barbarian fighting styles, ancient elven history

**Kellenes Dakarios**/elf/ranger skills, knowledge nature, religion-Rillifane

**Kerzeran Lorian**/human/guest speaker, knowledge nobility and royalty(advisor to Cormyr)

**Lavender Feya**/human (plane touched)/ enchantment, knowledge planar, language: celestial            

**Liralyn Sunstar**/gold elf/headmistress, bardic music, elven language

**Lyly Kesselwhite**/halfling/reading, writing, cooking, religion of Yondalla, homemaking

**Magnar Lodestone**/dwarf/dwarven smithing, dwarven history

**Mallorn Nightstar**/1/2 elf/performing, bardic skills

**Rogan Merillon**/1/2 elf/archery, ranged weapons, skill: bow making, carpentry, language: sylvan

**Rolan Natheen**/gnome/Illusion, religion-Garl, gnomish history, rougery

**Rosealliele Silverspear**/moon elf/Abjuration magic

**Selvan Kalnost**/human/Divination and Necromancy, skills: bookbinding, calligraphy, religion-Azuth, language: Ignan  ****

**Sharanne Miriden**/human/Religion: Chauntea, healing, farming techniques

**Shelinda Liosellen/**gold elf/Abjuration magic/deceased****

**Starya Burnt leaf**/elf/druid skills, religion: Sehanine

**Torienne Swiftblade**/halfling/roguery, halfling language****

**Tully Thistlethorn**/human/human smithing, tanning, and leatherworking

**Vartyn Brindylow**/gnome/melee fighting-simple weapons and shortswords, gnomish language

**West Greaycastle**/human/Melee fighting, religions: Torm and Tyr, mounted combat

**Yael Raurrock**/dwarven/religion-dwarven (moradin), dwarven language

 ****

**Students**

**Cullen**-centaur-smithing class****

**Jaelen Hawklight**-human-son of Rain The Banshee-smithing class

**Morgana**-dwarf-smithing class

**Rina**-dwarf girl-Sera's "best" friend

**Sorcha of the Black Lion tribe**-human-smithing class

**Talath**-sylvan elf-smithing class

**Zelairwyn Sunstar**-gold elf-elven history

**The people of Banshee Keep**

**Alaric the Gull**-human-thief, Rain's mentor

**Andar Hawklight**-human-Rain's husband-farmer-priest of 

Chauntea

**Boron-**dwarf-night captain of Banshee keep

**Darach**-human-rider of Mistledale

**Doren Hawklight-**human**-**Andar and Rain's 5 year old son

**Dazelin**-dark elf-wizard and merchant of Ashabenford****

**Emiliana Hawklight-**human-druid of Eldath-Rain's eldest 

Daughter

**Guar**-1/2 orc-warrior-priest of Lathander, Rain's fellow 

Adventurer

**Gully Hawklight**-human-fighter-Rain's eldest son

**Ilyriian Kelerandri**-moon elf-captain of Kelerandri tower, 

Rain's cousin

**Jaelen Hawklight**-human-Andar and Rain's son, attending 

Everall

**Jeblek-**gnome-Gondsman of Banshee keep

**Kedra**-dwarf-wife of Takklin, Rain's fellow 

adventurer

**Kendahl Hawklight-human**Andar and Rain's 8 year-old son, 

training to be a priest of Chauntea

**Lyklor Kelerandri**-moon elf ghost-former knight, now undead 

guardian of the keep and tower, ancestor of Rain and Ilyriian.

**Mr. Chitters**-dire weasel-"guard dog" of Banshee keep****

**Raine the Banshee**-1/2 elf-leader of the border forces of 

Banshee keep, Steelguard tower, and Kelerandri tower

**Shella**-human-rider of Mistledale

**Takklin Steelguard**-dwarf-captain of Steelguard tower and 

Banshee keep

**Gods**

****

**In The Seldarine**

**Aedrie Fayena-**goddess of the air, weather, avariels and fertility****

**Angharradh-**triune goddess, composed of the powers of Sehanine Moonbow, Hanali Celanil, and Aedrie Fayena****

**Corellon-**head of the pantheon-power over magic, music, arts, war, poetry bars, and the elven race (specially gold elves)

**Erevan Ilesere-**god of mischief, changes and rogues****

**Hanali Celanil-**goddess of love and beauty****

**Sehanine Moonbow-**goddess of the moon, moon elves, death, mysticism, the stars and the heavens 

**Other gods/goddesses**

**Auril-**human goddess of cold, and winter****

**Berronar Truesilver-**dwarven goddess of safety, home, healing, families, marriage, loyalty and oaths****

**Chauntea-**human goddess of plants, farmer, and summer****

**Cyric**-human god of murder, lies, and deception****

**Eilistraee-**drow goddess of song, beauty, dance, hunting, and** moonlight**

**Eldath**-human goddess of quiet places, pools, springs, waterfall, peace, and pacifists****

**Gond**-human/gnome god of artifice, craft, construction, and smithwork

**Lathander**-human god of creativity, dawn, renewal, self-perfection, youth, and spring

**Lolth-**drow goddess of drow, spiders, assassins, chaos and evil

**Moradin-**dwarven god of creation, smithing, protection, metalcraft, stone work and the dwarven race

**Mystra**-human goddess of magic

**Selune**-human goddess of the moon, lycanthropes, and wanderers

**Shar-**human goddess of nights, secrets, dark, dungeons, loss, caverns, and the Underdark****

**Tempus-**human god of war and battle

**Torm**-human god of duty, loyalty, obedience, and paladins****

**Tyr-**humangod of justice****

**Umberlee-**human goddess of oceans and seas****

**Vhaeraun-**drow god of thievery and drow males****

**Lexicon**

**Ar-tel'Quessir**-gold or "sun" elves

**Cha-Tel'Quessir**-half elves****

**Etriel**-basically the elven word "lady," a term of respect****

**Kholiast**-elven card game involving a 1,000+ card deck, a 

variable hand-sized hand based on a roll of dice, and a point counting system that would drive anyone but an elf mad.****

**N'Tel-Quessir**-"not people" or anyone not elven

**Quessir**-basically the elven word for "sir," a term of respect****

**Ssri-Tel'Quessir**-drow or dark elves****

**Sy-Tel'Quessir**-Green or "wild" elves

**Teu-Tel'Quessir**-Silver or "moon" elves


	11. Chapter 10

Here is the next chapter.  In this one you'll find that characters from my first story make appearances, as per the request of one of my readers.  I feel I should thank the four who have reviewed my story, whether through the sit, or by e-mail.  Thank you, Arabwel, Aquila, crazefanficboi, and catspaw0913.  If it weren't for your reviews, I probably would not have continued writing this dreary tale. The Dramatis Personae has been updated, due to new characters.  Please note that I made a minor error in chapter 9, regarding the name of one of Keledrial's students.  Doren Hawklight is, in actuality Jaelen Hawklight.  The chapter has been reloaded for the purpose of that change. I know that an Elaith appearance has been asked for, and I promise, he will appear at least once more by the end of this, but not yet.  For now, I hope you enjoy Keledrial's latest entries of his mishaps, woes, and idiocies.  Azurielle 

I honestly cannot reason why it is that I **ever **thought that this whole scheme of the Queen's would be a good idea.  I do not know what horrible demon possessed me, convincing me to believe that I would be able to do this…any of this!  I am not cut out to be a teacher, I vow it!  I do not have the patience to deal with children…I barely have enough to deal with Sera, and there are days when it is only my love for her that keeps me from giving up entirely.  

       They expect me to know everything, to be able to answer every question they have!  They want to know how and when and why and wherefore!  

       I cannot explain why it is that some metals melt at certain heats, while others take for more…I just know that they do!  Why does it matter how it works?  I never asked questions like that of my father!  Brander would have only replied that I had too much time on my hands if my mind was asking such foolishness, and given me more to do.  

       And the little barbarian brats are hopeless!  How anyone expects Bran and I to turn them into civilized, intelligently thinking people is beyond me!  They are so bloody stubborn, and set in their ways.  "Why should we learn to read?  It's not like words will slay our enemies?"  they say.  I simply cannot find the words to explain to them that if they read, and learn, and study, that they will be able to be smarter than their enemies, thus giving them an edge in battle…or that there are more things to life that fighting and war.  Damned, bloody followers of Tempus.  I've not yet met a single one that understood the concept of "no battles."

       As for my history class, that would almost be enjoyable…almost.  Most of my students are willing, nay eager to learn.  They listen to the stories and histories as though I were the finest bard…and truth to tell, I can't imagine that anyone would be able to find entertainment in my storytelling abilities.  They ask questions…logical, reasonable questions…but then there is my thorn, my pebble, my voice of dissent…Zelairwyn.

       The boy is the most uncooperative, bad-tempered, annoying brat that I have had occasion to meet, and that is saying something.

       In class, he only speaks up to point out a part of a history I might have missed, to ask a question that he thinks I cannot answer…and some times can't…to find any way he can to stir up trouble.  And outside of class, it is almost worse.  I can't think how I am supposed to my job to protect him, as he is quite clever at sneaking off.  He spends most of his time in the house, moping, and on the few occasions I have tried to speak with him, to try to become friends with my charge, he merely snarls that he is not a child, and he does not need a guard.

       How dreadful it is that my own past should come back to bite me, that I should now be forced into a situation where I must deal with an elf who reminds me nothing so much as myself!

       It has only been two ten-days, and already I despair of being able to keep my word to the Queen on any level.  The few other teachers with whom will still speak with me, have assured me that the first few weeks of school are always rough, and that it takes time for things, and students to settle down.  I begin to wonder if that is the truth, however.

       To make matters worse…as if matters could get much worse, it seems that everyone, from the teachers to the students know of my attempt to kill Kalanas Dakarios…and not a one of them agrees that I was in the right to attack him.  Even the elven children attending my class have come up with ways to point out that the dark elves and the light elves have not always been enemies, usually dredging up some historical reference in a tome to prove the point to me.  

       To top everything off, I hardly see Sera, except at breakfast, and dinner, and usually by dinner she is so tired from the day, that she falls right to sleep.  She loves every minute of the school and her classes and new friends…and I am not nearly as interesting to spend time with, I suppose.  

Sanhandrian has all but abandoned me as well, having shacked up with a lady squirrel who dwells in the tree near my bedroom window.  He is in "love," or whatever squirrels feel that passes for the same emotion.  

It would be fair to say that things are not going well…not like they ever do, mind you.  But even worse, this time I am bound not only by duty to my family, and my queen, but by my own oath as well.  And I thought that change would be a good thing? At least on Evermeet, trapped as I was, there taverns to drink at, and wenches to couple with…here I must be on my best behavior…a model for the students…hence no drinking.  And the only elven women about are wither taken, students, or Shelinda…who is so old that she could be my great, great, grandmother.  Ah, Corellon help me, and grant me the ability to withstand the mess I have gotten myself into!

All right, so I admit, perhaps I was being a bit overdramatic a few months ago…but I confess that it did seem as though I had, once again, made another terrible mistake in coming here.  The fact of the matter is, that I am not the greatest teacher there is…but I think that as I am getting more used to the routine of it all, and as the students are becoming more used to me and learning to respect me, that things are getting better.

It helps that most of the children do not watch me with expressions of expectation, waiting for me to prove to them that I know something I can teach them, or hoping to see me fail.     

       In my smithing class, the students are just getting into working steel into objects.  We finished with iron, gold and silver, which are all easier metals to work with.  Most of them are putting all their effort into their schooling I notice…actually, it's something I've noticed with the majority of the students at the school: they are all serious about being here to learn.  Oh, don't get me wrong, there are exceptions to the rule, those who are here more because someone else, usually their parents, wanted them to be...those who cause trouble and the like. 

       My Sy'Tel quessir student, Talath, for instance, has a very short attention span.  Odd for an elf, but not unheard of.  He, unlike the others has a hard time with my class, as smithing requires one's full and undivided attention.  Talath is often far more inclined to let his mind wander, and day dream, and so has managed to injure himself on at least three separate occasions.

       Bran and I have made considerable headway with the barbarian students, but Bran assured me that he fully expected we would, despite my despair over ever doing so.  I think that, in working with them, trying to get them to let go of their stubbornness, I have caught a glimpse of my own self.  The truth of the matter is that I now find I feel a degree of pity for those people who have had to deal with me all of these years, trying their very best to show me that sometimes my way of thinking is more than a little bit…off.  It must have been like trying to push a boulder up a mountain, and I find that as I pity them, I also respect them for their effort…certainly trying to change my opinion on anything I make my mind up to can be a chore...as changing the students mind on the merits of learning has been for Bran and I.  However, just because I recognize that I have been a thorn in the sides of the people in my life does not mean they are right about what they think, either.

       My history class reminds me greatly of my youth, studying books and tomes.  Most of the children in my class are very nearly as enthusiastic about history as I was, and I have had trouble coming up with lessons fast enough, for they retain everything I tell them, and then ask questions that even I do not know the answers to.  It is challenging, for it tests the limits of my knowledge, forcing me to research more to satisfy their curiosity.

       I have still made little progress with Zelairwyn, however, although , to his credit, he knows his history and gets top marks in my class, even as he does his level best to cause trouble and trip me up in any way he can.  At this point, Zelairwyn is a problem that I have no remedy for.  However, since he has been behaving of late, according to his mother, there has been no need for me to worry that he is putting himself in danger.

       I have suitably managed to avoid the drow, thus keeping temptation out of my way, and so all in all, I must say that things are going better than I had hoped, now that I am settling in.  I keep hoping that I will receive word from the elves of Kelerandri tower, to whom I am to report for service if they need my aid against the drow, but it seems that either the drow of the forest have been quiet of late, of I am not needed.  Either way I feel I am not quite accomplishing what I was sent here to do, and yet with all my responsibilities here, at the school, and with so many different fighter-types with which to spar with, I do not feel restless or bored.  That is a rare occurrence, in and of itself.

       The fall harvest begins in a week or so, and the school is officially on break, as most of the local children are returning home to help with it.  Naturally, a great many of the students live too far away to easily return.  Those that cannot go home are staying here, given free time to study and relax as they wish, with no formal classes.  A fair portion of the teachers have also departed, taking breaks, visiting friends and family and the like.

       I have not been here long enough to feel the need to visit any of my family…and seeing as they are so far away, such a trip would be difficult and impractical.  I am thinking that during the break will just relax a bit, and spend more time with my daughter…that is if she can tear herself away from all of her new friends and interests long enough…although I think I shall have to assert some parental authority and require that she do so…although, I wonder about the wisdom of doing such a thing.  She does have a tendency to be stubborn when it comes to orders.

       It is frightening to see how many changes the little time we have spent at this school have wrought in my daughter.  Finally having children her won age to play with, aside from my younger brother, with whom she never quite got along with for some reason, seems to have done her a world of good.  And yet, she seems to have grown so much from the little girl she was, and will probably always be to me.  She has begun acting older, her speech no longer childish, as it was up until recently.  And she has grown more and more insistent, as of late, about dropping little "hints" to me…mostly that her friends all of mothers and that she does not.  I have managed to act the part of the fool, however, deliberately misinterpreting her suggestions, as I have no intentions of taking a wife…ever.  If it means that I must stay away from Evermeet until my betrothed gives up on me and weds another, than that is what I must do.  

I am beginning to like the way my life is going, and I have no intentions of willingly shackling myself to woman.  Let Sylthas sire the heirs that house Nightstar will need.  Certainly my cousin is adept enough with women to accomplish the deed.  And if not Sylthas, then Kedriel or the twins can do so.  I have no desire for it.  I have come to the conclusion that I will never marry for any reason short of love…and since I find that such a notion as romantic love can only be a thing made up by bards, and the cult of Hanali, I do not think I have anything to worry about. 

       My hopes for a quiet break did not quite go as well as I had planned.  Indeed, they died a swift death only two days after the local students returned home.

       The problem was that my charge, whose life I am honor-bound to protect, has decided that he, too, wished to have a vacation…and departed in the night against his mother's wishes.

       My reverie was rudely broken by a pounding on my door. Summoned to my cousin's office, I arrived to see that she was pacing about, alternately worried, and angry, clutching a scrap of parchment.

       "My son," she told me without preamble, "Has decided to take a trip...without my permission, or any protection," she tossed the parchment on the desk before me.  Assuming she meant for me to read it, I picked up the letter.  It was simple in composition.  Zelairwyn wrote that he wished to take a bit of a break from schooling, and that he would be back in a month, when school resumed.  There was no indication of where he intended to go.  

My cousin, meanwhile, was ranting under her breath in a tone that I have come to believe only mother's are capable of learning.

"When he gets back here…oh, he's in so much trouble!  How dare he do this again?!" He's going to get himself killed…"

"Liralyn," I interrupted.

"I want you to go after him," she turned on me, silver eyes blazing.  "The Queen sent you here to protect him, so that is what I want you to do."

"Very well," I replied, with a sigh.  As I said, so much for my vacation.

I departed the school within the hour, after gathering my gear, and wrestling a bridle onto Lashrael 2. 

The beastly animal was being more ornery than usual, seeing as he'd begun to grow fat and lazy during the past few months.  I don't ride with a saddle, seeing as I never had been able to train the damnable animal to accept one, but it was just as well, for trying to get another piece of gear of Lashrael 2 would have taken another hour longer and a second battle of wills.

Mallorn led me out of the forest, unknowing that, by that time, I had managed to work out how to navigate it in my spare time.  Believe me, such a task was no easy thing, for the illusions and realities and intricacies of the two intertwined were quite complicated.  I doubt I would have managed it, but for my ability to be able to sense magic's presence. 

My half-elven cousin left me at the road near Hap.

"May Tymora's favor be with you," he told me, his customary half-smile gracing his face.  "Knowing Zelairwyn, you'll need it."

"Why is she sending me on this mission?" I asked him, as I had wanted to ask Liralyn. "I was under the impression that Liralyn neither trusts me, nor likes me very much."  Mallorn shrugged.

" Can't say, really.  I certainly don't know my sister's mind that well.  But if I were to wager a guess, I would guess that she's giving you a chance to prove yourself…oh, and all of our friends from the Myth Knights are off visiting.  She can't go herself and leave the school unprotected, so, seeing as it _is what you were sent here to do, you might as well do it."_

"I was sent here to protect him, not be his nursemaid," I grumbled.  Mallorn laughed softly, almost eerily.  Now, I don't really mind the man, but there is something about Mallorn's preternatural stillness that disturbs me.  Something about his eyes makes him seem old…like he sees far too much.  And I have to wonder about the mind of a person who could come up with, and implement, the types of protections that exist around Everall.

"With my nephew sometimes it seems that one jobs entails the other.  Best hurry now, before the trail grows too cold," he added, and with a snap of his fingers, he was gone. Damned bardic penchant for dramatic exits.

In Hap, a few sharp-eyed villagers mentioned that they'd seen Zelairwyn headed down the western road, riding a horse from the school.  Hoping that the fool wouldn't stray too far from the road, I rode out of town in that direction.  

As soon as we were away from Hap, I let Lashrael 2 have his lead.  With a toss of his black head, Lashrael broke into a gallop, glorying in the speed and freedom, reminding me so very much of his sire.

I caught up with the little brat almost a ten-day later, near the outskirts of Ashabenford.  A few farmers I'd passed on the road were happy enough to tell me, for a few coins, that they'd seen a cloaked youth leading a horse that matched the description of the one taken from the school, only about an hour ahead of me.  A glance at the tracks on the road, and a little bit of recollection of the bit of tracking skills I'd picked up from Hank, told me that the horse had somehow become lame, and that meant Zelairwyn was not riding it.  

As I got close and closer to him, I had a sudden idea.  Zelairwyn seems to be of the belief that he can do as he wills, without regard for anyone else.  And, like most youths of his age…although not me…he seemed to think that he is invincible.  It occurred to me that perhaps if I gave him a taste of what fear is like…if I showed him that he could easily be harmed while off on a "jaunt," then perhaps, just perhaps he would be less likely to continue on with such behavior.

So, pausing in the road, I made use of two of the many spells in my repertoire.  One of the spells, often referred to as an "alter self" spell, I used on myself.  The magic of the spell changed my appearance, hiding the most distinctive of my features.  My hair colored changed from pale silver-blue to wheat gold.  My ears grew shorter, more like a Cha-Tel quessir's than a full blood elf.  My green eyes turned a muted hazel hue.  My skin darkened as it never would in without magic.  The overall effect had me looking less elven, and more half-elven.  It was a perfect disguise.  After all, who would think that I would disguise myself as a Cha-Tel quessir?  

Then I turned my magic on Sanhandrian.  Using a simple illusion, I changed the color of his coat from sinful black, to a more common, non-descript dun shade, adding a white blaze on his head for effect.

I made certain I had a plain knife at hand, and continued onwards. An hour later, I caught sight of my quarry, sitting just of the side of the road.  His horse was grazing, and Zelairwyn sat on a large stone, one hand holding the beast's reins.  I steeled myself for what I intended to do.  

He glanced up as I approached, his hood covered most of his face, but I caught sight of his silver eyes and knew it was he.

I slowed as I neared him.  

"What's the problem?" I called out to him, altering the tone of my voice so that it sounded gruffer.

"No need to trouble yourself, sir," Zelairwyn replied.  "My horse has just slipped a shoe, and having a bit of arrest.  I'll get it fixed in Ashabenford."

"Ashabenford?" I asked as I slipped down from Lashrael's back.  "That's a few more miles from here, isn't it?  I work as a farrier," I lied.  "Let me take a look and seen if I can't give you a hand."  Zelairwyn stood, and flashed an appreciative smile.

"I would be most grateful," he stated, politely.  I walked closer, and once within a foot or so of him, I attacked.

I grabbed Zelairwyn, and hurled him against a tree, not so hard as too truly hurt him, just knock the wind out of him.  He gasped, and made to run, but I am far faster than a boy.  I grabbed him by the back of the shirt and dragged him just off the road, then slammed him up against a tree.  I yanked his hood off, and held the sharp edge of my knife to his throat.  I saw fear in his silver eyes, yet at the same time, he did not cower or plead as I fully expected him to.

"My money is in my saddle bags," he stated, only a hint of a quiver to his voice.  "Take it, if that is what you want."  I pressed a little harder against his neck, drawing a tiny drop of blood.

"And if I don't care about your money?" I asked, menacingly.  "Maybe it's your blood that I'd rather see."  

"Then kill me and be done with it," Zelairwyn said, his chin rising fractionally, determined.  I was mildly impressed, for he despite his fear, he was being brave.  Deciding to see what he would do, I lowered the blade, just a little.  Zelairwyn took full advantage of that gesture, and kicked me with all his might.  I stumbled back, just enough that he could try to run.  Before he could get more than a few steps, however, I grabbed his arm, jerking him to a halt so forcefully that I am certain he will be left with bruises.  The knife went back to his throat, and there was a look of resignation in his eyes.

"Are you scared?" I asked.  He did not reply.  "I could kill you now, and there's not a damned thing you could do about it," I remarked.

"So just do it, already!" he cried.

Annoyed, I dropped my charade, and my spell, shoving him to the ground.

"I'm not going to kill you, Zelairwyn Sunstar," I growled, tucking the dagger back into its sheath.  

"But you'd better understand that I damned well could've…and so could any two-copper bandit or goblin that's likely to be roaming the area.  Or are you so foolish that you think you are equipped enough to fend off your attacker…as you managed to do so admirably with me?" I sneered.  I saw the fear fade, saw a flicker of rage glitter in his eyes the moment before he launched himself at my knees, knocking me momentarily off balance.  He was on his feet in an instant, pummeling me with all his might, and screaming,

"I hate you! I hate you!"   I let him rage at me for a while, even through his fists were causing a bit of damage, for he was not exactly weak.  I could, to a degree, understand what motivated his escapes…or at least I thought I could.

His rage lasted only a short while, then, quite to my horror, he sank back down to the ground and began to cry.  Somehow, the sight bothered me even more than Sera's tears.  Sera, after all, is a little girl and certainly prone to fits of hysteria.  Zelairwyn is not a young child anymore.  From what little I have learned of him over the past few months, I know that he is stubborn, angry, and thinks he is all but grown.  He would never cry in front of someone like me, an adversary, unless there was something more going on than I had thought.  

"I hate you…" he sobbed, glaring up at me, still angry, despite the tears.  "I hate all of you…especially you!  And I hate my mother, too!  She lies to me!  She just wants to keep me here.  She never wants me to grow up!  I just want to go back to Evereska…they didn't treat me like a…a baby there…and I don't need…a…a protector!  If I had a father, you wouldn't be here…but she lies to me…she won't even tell me his name!"  He tugged angrily at an amulet around his neck, almost as though he were trying to rip it off, but the chain held firm. 

Finally, unable to meet my eyes any longer, Zelairwyn hid his face in his knees, and continued to cry.

Feeling somewhat bad now, over what I had done… especially when I could understand where he was coming from, I spoke haltingly.

"Look, Zelairwyn.  Certainly nothing can be as bad as all this," I told him, using words that had once been used on me.

"You don't know anything," he mumbled, not looking up.

"I know that until you can protect yourself you, you need someone to make certain that nothing happens to you.  And I know that your mother loves you, and that is why she sent me to come get you," I said, trying to be comforting…although that is something that I am certainly not very good at.  Zelairwyn looked up again, his tears slowing, as he snapped angrily,

"She doesn't love me!  If you love someone, you don't lie to them! You don't hide things from them!"

"What do you think she's hiding from you?" I asked, more to placate him than out of any curiosity.

"Everything!  She told me my father was from Evermeet; that he was a noble, and that he died.  But if he was just a noble, then why do I need a bodyguard?  Why would the _Queen send a bodyguard for me?  Why not guards for my brothers and sisters?  You're a noble and you don't have a guard," he added.  I wanted to point out that I did not need a guard, but decided it would be more prudently to let him speak, uninterrupted, that he might talk out his anger._

"And she won't let me go back to Evereska.  I had friends there!  I was going to be accepted into the blade-singers guild to train!  I just want to go and see if my friends are all right…to help rebuild Evereska.  She thinks I'm a baby and I couldn't possibly do anything to help, though.  And she won't tell me what this stupid amulet is," he yanked hard on the object once more, leaving a red mark on his neck, as he did so.  "She won't tell me what it is, or why I can't take it off…only that it's for my own good! She never tells me anything, except to behave!"  He all but shouted.

"And then you show up, and you think just because the Queen sent you that I should be grateful, but I'm not!  I hate it!  I want to know _why you're here.  Why me?  What's so damned important about me?!" He demanded, sounded frustrated._

I was stunned.  It never occurred to me that Zelairwyn didn't know who his father was, for one thing.  And I had to agree with him that the amulet was rather curious.  Further, I can still recall how angry I was when the attack on Evereska had occurred, and that I hadn't been able to do anything to help…and that was considering there wasn't anyone I knew who lived in Evereska.  So, I could certainly sympathize with Zelairwyn, however, I did not know what to say to him.  If Liralyn hadn't told him his father's name or rank, it was certainly not my place to do so…although I think that keeping the truth from the boy was not the best form.  Fortunately, I did not have to say anything...at least not right away. 

"Oh gods," he swore, angrily rubbing the dampness from his face and eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.  "You don't understand anything!"

"I understand more than you might think," I replied, truthfully.

"I know you're angry, and I know how it feels to be constrained by ones parents.  I know that it is a terrible thing to have your life disrupted, but that sometimes it can't be helped.  I know that I am not your enemy, no matter how much you think I am.  And while I know that the Queen sent me here to protect you, she never said that I couldn't help you."  He gave me a skeptical look.

"You?  How can you help me?  Do you know who my father is?  Can you get this stupid amulet off me?"

"Yes, I know who your father is," I began.  

"So tell me," he interrupted.  

"I can't…it's not my place.  But I will tell you that his identity is, indeed, the reason why I was sent to keep you out of harm's way."

"What good are you if you won't tell me?' He wanted to know.  I shrugged.

"That remains to be seen, doesn't it?" I replied.

"All right, then, the amulet," he held it out at the length of the chain.  "You're a wizard.  Tell me what it does.  Tell me why I can't take it off."  Obligingly, I examined the amulet.  I felt the tingle of strong magic in it.  The piece was simple in design, a circle of silver with a moonstone in the center.  Looking closer, I saw that the edge was carved with tiny runes.  I muttered a cantrip to detect magic.  The amulet glowed brightly, and from the pale color of the glow, I knew that the main function of the amulet had to do with illusions.  As to why he couldn't take it off, I could only assume that some form of geas was responsible.  As for protection, there was no sign of that sort of enchantment on the amulet.  However, despite my vast hoard of magical knowledge, I could not identify the actual purpose of the medallion, for I'd not seen anything quite like it before.  All the same, I told him what little I'd managed to discern.

"Illusions?" he asked.  "Why would I need to wear something with an illusion in it? She said it was for protection."  I shrugged.  It would require a degree more study on my part, as well as a spell that I was not yet skilled enough with the weaving of magic to cast.  

The attempt, however, seemed to calm Zelairwyn…prove to him that I was willing to help him.

"All right," he began.  "You won't tell me my father's name, and you don't exactly know what the amulet is.  So if you want to help me, then let me go to Evereska.  Tell her you couldn't find me.  I'm just going to Cormyr to get someone to teleport me to Evereska.  I won't be gone long, I just want to know what happened to my friends."  I shook my head.

"For one thing, you know I can't let you go, and you know that.  And for another, I suppose I should tell you that it is impossible to teleport into Evereska.  If you want to know what happened to your friends there, give me their names.  I can ask some people to find out what befell them."

"I just want to do something!  I want to be away from the school, and my house!  Why is that so wrong?" He sounded frustrated.

"When you can protect yourself, then maybe I'll think about "not finding" you.  Until then, you are stuck with me, at the Everall school," I stated.  In some things, I have to be a grown up…it's probably the parent in me.               

"Then teach me how to protect myself!" He cried.  "I know you can.  You're a teacher…and a warrior.  If you're good enough to be my guardian, then you're good enough to teach me."

"Now wait a minute…"I began to protest.  The last thing I needed to be doing was teaching a royal elven youth how to fight like a human warrior.

"No!  I know all about you.  I know that you're a fighter and a wizard.  I know that you caused as much trouble on Evermeet as I do here, more even, and that's why you got stuck with me.  I know that when you were my age you were shipwrecked, and that you trained with humans.  And I know that the Queen chose you…which means you can't be that bad.  Besides, you said you would help me, and since you can't help any other way, I want you teach me.  That way when I prove I'm just a good as you, maybe the Queen and my mother will let me do things on my own."  I sighed.  I knew this would not be an easy task, but I had hoped that I might be proven wrong in a way that is beneficial to me, just for once.

"All right, Zelairwyn.  Let's make a deal then.  I train you, and you stop running off like a damned fool, until **I **say that you're ready."

"Agreed."

"Don't be so fast, "I held up a hand to stop him.  "If you mean to train with me, be aware of this: it won't be easy, and if you whine or protest, I'll only push you harder. Training to be a warrior is no simple task…it takes a great deal of determination…and if you agree, I'll hold you to your word."

"I agree.  I'm not afraid."

"I was," I told him.  "But you've agreed, and so I'm holding you to it.  No more running off."

"Just so long as you teach me to fight," he replied evenly.  

"Right.  Now, since we're halfway there, we might as well go to Ashabenford for the night.  I intend to spend as little of my vacation sleeping on the road as possible," I gave him a pointed look, as though to say it was his fault that I was not relaxing back at Everall, as I should have been.  He only shrugged, not having the good graces to even seem a little bit guilty. Damned kid.  Well, at least he won't be running off any more.  And all I have to do is teach him to be like me.  Joy.  I'm certain by the time I'm done the Queen will ban from Evermeet forever for turning her grandson into a little barbarian.  What a great vacation this is turning out to be!   

We walked into Ashabenford about an hour or so later…I can't really be that certain, as I have never been very good at exacting time by the sun's movement.  The White Hart Inn was open, and I ordered two rooms, and some food.  However, before the food even arrived, a young human boy wearing stable-type clothing came rushing into the taproom of the inn, and up to a table wear 2 humans, a man and a woman were seated.  

"Hurry," I heard him tell them, urgently.  "Word's come down from Banshee keep.  Drow attack in two days.  Riders've got to get into positions!"  The two rose swiftly tossing a few coins down."

"Two days?  That doesn't give us a whole lot of time…especially with so many of the riders dealing with the trouble further south, by Peldan's Helm," the man commented. 

"Worse than that," the woman shook her head.  "About half the dwarves of Glen are gone, found some old mine they'd been looking for, but they wouldn't tell anyone where it is.  If there's not time to find them, and get them back and ready for the fight, the border forces are going to be seriously short-handed."  The man grimaced and nodded.

"Well, at least Kelerandri and Steelguard towers are at full capacity."  They headed for the door, when the impact of their words finally hit me.  Drow attack…and Kelerandri tower.  This something I was here to help with, whether or not the forces of Kelerandri tower had ever intended to send for my aid.

But then I looked over at Zelairwyn, who'd been listening on with interest, as well. What would I do with him? His gaze turned to mine, as though he knew my thoughts had turned to him.

"Are you going to go help?" he asked.

"I might," I replied.  "But I have a problem…you."

"Not a problem.  I'll just go with you and help," he stated confidently.

"I think not.  I am not about to let you anywhere near a battle involving the drow."

"Why not?"  He wanted to know, as though the reason were not clear enough.  I sighed.

"Zelairwyn, think about the conversation we had not three hours ago.  You can't defend yourself in any definition of the word "defend."  At best you'd be killed outright, at worst you'd get caught by them, become a slave and suffer for the rest of your short life.  And seeing as we have decided that I am charged with your protection until I deem that you can protect yourself, I say absolutely not."  He looked frustrated for a moment, then the gleam of light in his eyes appeared.

"Look, you might be a great warrior and all, but I know a lot more about the dalelands than you do.  Banshee keep is the safest place I could be.  It was built twenty years ago by these adventurers…I think they called them the Crimson Flame or something.  Well, the leader of the group was Rain the Banshee.  She and her friends have been fighting drow on the borders since the first year the keep was built!  There hasn't been a major drow attack that got past their defenses in all that time.  And more and more keeps and forts have been built along the borders because of her.  The people there know what they're doing!  If I'm safe there, I won't be safe here, since it means the drow'll have broken past the border guards," he explained.

"Yes?  Well, if you'd be safe at this "Banshee keep," you'll be safer still back at Everall," I snapped.  

"But if you take me back now, there won't be time to return for the battle," he reasoned.

" And if these people have never lost a battle in twenty years, what makes you think they'll need me?" I challenged.

"Didn't you hear the riders?  They're short handed.  If it's to be a major fight, and the dwarves and the riders aren't there to help, the drow might finally get past, and the attacks will start on Ashabenford again!  Do you want to be responsible for that? After all, you know what they say, "For want of one fighter, the battle was lost.""  I heard those words, and they echoed back at me, as I remembered having said them myself, thought them myself over and over, thinking that if only I'd been there to help in Evermeet and Evereska.  If I returned Zelairwyn to Everall, the battle would be over before we even got back. If the border forces fell…I would never be able to forgive myself for not being there to help.  

But on the other hand, if something happened to the Queen's grandson…if the drow killed Zelairwyn, I will have failed in my vow to the Queen.  I do not think I could bear to do such a thing…knowing that I would disgrace myself even more than I already have.  

A terrible dilemma, I wasn't certain which path to take.  Help and risk Zelairwyn, or leave, and chance that the drow will reach Ashabenford.  It didn't help that Zelairwyn was watching me with the expectant gaze of youth: that I would follow the more "logical" course that he'd set forth for me.  And, damn it all, I _wanted _to go fight.  I wanted to use all my new skills, my training, and test out the Fury of Battle.  I was tired of mock combat, and sparring.  I wanted to feel the rush of battle once more.  Yet, at the same time, I knew my duty.  I knew that I had no business risking Zelairwyn's life…and yet, when it came down to it, the brat risked his own life.  And certainly I had been little better.  Once I'd learned the ways of the Ruathym, I'd adhered to them as best I could.  I had been as eager for a true battle as had any normal Ruathen boy.  

In the end, the decision was no so hard as I had thought it might be.  After all, the Queen knew me…I'd never hidden anything from her if she asked it of me.  She knew my nature is to fight, no matter what odds are arrayed against me.

We rode out, following the path of the Riders of Mistledale, north towards a place Zelairwyn said was once the home of a bandit named Galath.  Now it was the home of a thief called the Banshee.

It took almost the whole of the day for us to reach our destination, riding fairly hard, without rest.  Lashrael 2 did not seem to mind much, relishing in being able to run as he wished.

Though night had fallen, I saw the keep rise up suddenly just up ahead on a small rise.  In the distance, just visible in the light of the moon, were the tops of two towers, one black and glittering: Steelguard tower, or so Zelairwyn informed me.  The other tower was a pure white, reflecting the light of the sky's adornments: Kelerandri tower.

The keep sat situated between the keep, each one a few miles away.  In the lea of the keep was a small village.  The village sat on the edge of miles of farmed land, most of the fields half harvested.  The road we were traveling along ran along side one of the fields, and a small copse of tress. There were lights in the cottages, smoke coming from the chimneys.  They certainly didn't look as though they were preparing for a battle.  

Deciding to go first to where at least my name might be known, provided the captain of the tower had received the Queen's message, I continued on, and further to the west, past the keep, to Kelerandri Tower.

I was stopped by guards about 100 yards from the tower. A company of moon and gold elves stepped out of the trees and asked my business.  I explained that I was there to see the captain of the tower and that I was sent by the queen…which, of course was all truth.

They had Zelairwyn and I get down, and they led us and Lashrael 2 towards the tower.

Inside, the place reminded me much of many towers to be found on Evermeet.  The walls were painted with great murals of the forest.  The floor with a geometric mosaic design.  A fountain bubbled in the center of the first floor, and yet, for all that it was pretty, it was also quite functional, and had been built for defense…for a siege.

Strangely, I also saw hints of dwarven work about some of the doorways, and the way that the steps had been rigged to collapse at the front.  It was not something I would have noticed before working at Everall, but then I am a bit of a racist.

The captain was quickly summoned, and arrived from an upper portion of the tower within minutes.  He was moon elven, unsurprisingly, on the tall side, his height stopping at an inch or two under six feet.  He wore his dark blue hair very long, in a braid down to his waist.  Matching blue eyes took my measure as he strode up to me.  His name, as I recall, is Ilyriian Kelerandri.

"So you're the Nightstar heir?" He asked.  I nodded, although I still have doubts as to whether or not I will be able to fulfill that position.

"And this is?" he gestured towards Zelairwyn, who was doing his best to look casual.

"My apprentice, Zelairwyn," I replied smoothly.  It wasn't quite true, not yet anyhow, but it was close enough.

The captain nodded, thoughtfully.

"Well, you certainly do look like your mother, I must say," the captain stated.  "Aside from the height and coloring, that is."  Should I have been insulted?  After all, looking like my mother means looking like a girl…yet, I figured it for a compliment, as I know I don't look like a girl.

"You know her?" I asked, politely.  He puffed up slightly.

"I had the good fortune to be serving in her unit for most of my training.  If it weren't for her quick thinking and leadership during the battle of Evermeet, I wouldn't be here now.  Damned shame about her leg, but if I know Lady Saelihn, its hardly slowed her down."

"No," I informed him, a faint smile coming to my face, as I thought about my mother's dogged determination to be rid of her handicap and get back to service.  "It hasn't slowed her down much."

"Although I'd wager your reappearance threw her for a while, 'ey?  Wasn't a one of us who believed that you were alive, not being sickly like you were.  I guess you grew out of it."

"I guess I did," I replied, a bit uncomfortable at the turn in conversation.

"So, why is it you've come.  I thought you were teaching over at the school."

"I am," I confessed.  "However, its harvest break, and my…apprentice wanted to visit in Ashabenford.  We overheard some Riders talking about an attack about to happen here, and you being short handed.  So I decided to volunteer my sword, if you wish it."  Captain Kelerandri nodded.

"Well, I'll tell you the truth Lord Nightstar.  The letters I received from the Queen and your family stated that you were told that you'd been sent here to aid in the battles.  But what they didn't tell you was that they informed me never to summon for you, unless circumstances were dire."

"What?" I demanded, my temper flaring instantly.  Captain Kelerandri shrugged.

"I gather that they want you kept from harm's way, which is not that unusual, considering that you are the house heir and all."

"Why are you telling me this? "I all but growled, furious at my parents, and the Queen's duplicity.  Zelairwyn thought I didn't understand how he felt?  I was stuck in the same damned boat he was…only I am not a bloody child!

" I felt that you should know why I didn't send for you.  But, seeing as you're here, and seeing as we are, indeed, short-handed, I think that I'll accept the volunteer of your skills…if you're still willing that is."  Oh, I was more than willing.  I was eager.  After all that I have lived through, and done, my parents still didn't trust me!  And after all that I'd just spouted at Zelairwyn, he gets to hear that his "protector" was treated little better than he was.

I agreed, of course.

"Well, now that that is settled, I'll just need to make certain that Lady Rain is informed of your presence."

"_Lady Rain?" I couldn't quite contain my incredulity.  _

"Aye, Lady Rain…my cousin.  The one who gave me captainship of this tower," Ilyriian Kelerandri gave me a dirty look.  

"We've already met," I informed him, inwardly amazed that a common pick-pocket was considered a "Lady" in these parts…and yet, I thought of the Amahquessir family on Evermeet, recalling that the entire family consisted of rogues, and concluded that it was not so strange after all.

"You have, 'ey?  Well, then you will not mind meeting her again to see if she approves of your presence among us."

"You look to a Cha-Tel' Quessir for approval?" I asked incredulously, foolishly speaking my mind before I could better consider my words.  Ilyriian Kelerandri's eyes narrowed.  

"Because your mother is Saelihn Nightstar, I'll forgive the insult. For your information, Nightstar Rain has done more for the elven people in this area than anyone I can think of.  We respect her opinion as an elf-friend, and I am proud to share blood with her."

"I am sorry," I quickly apologized.  "Truly, I had not meant to be insulting.  I am still trying to unlearn certain of my less savory behaviors," I stated.  Ilyriian sighed.

"That's all right.  I'm quick with my defenses, but when it comes down to it, I once thought as your did…until I met and battled with my cousin."

"You fought her?" I asked curiously.  He nodded.

"Aye, and she defeated me…she with her common street-style of blade fighting defeated me with all my decades of training as a soldier of Evermeet.  It was a humbling experience."  I thought of the red-haired woman I'd met a few months ago…and back to the skinny brat who'd picked my pocket so long ago.  I found it hard to believe that she could be so skilled…although I don't know why.  After all, if she was anything like Lita she could probably defeat anyone.

The captain told his men to stand down and return to their patrols.  He led Zelairwyn and I down a level, to the basement floor of the tower, where we were both blindfolded, and led into a tunnel of sorts.  I tried to listen closely, to see if I could discern where we were going, and how we were getting there, but the good Captain kept talking, no doubt to distract me, as I heard the sounds of moving stone, and sensed flickering torch lights.

"You've a half-elf cousin too, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes," I admitted.  "Mallorn Nightstar."

"Uncle Mallorn is your cousin?" I heard Zelairwyn ask.  

"Yes," I replied.  "We both share the same name, don't we?"

"I thought it was just a coincidence," Zelairwyn confessed.

"I've heard of Mallorn Nightstar.  The enchanted forest he designed is becoming quite famous in the dales," Ilyriian stated.

"He designed the forest?" I asked.  

"Mostly, from what I've heard.  Quite a bit of work there.  Good defense, too.  Here we use plain old soldierly, a bit of magic, and a few gnomish contraptions that usually work to great effect."

"Usually?" I asked.

"Ah, well, sometimes Jeblek's traps don't quite work the way he intends…but he's only set one building on fire in twenty years, so I'd say that's not too bad a ratio."  I heard Zelairwyn stifling a chuckle, and elbowed the brat to hush him up.  

"Why is it that your cousin is called "the Banshee"?" Zelairwyn asked suddenly, even as I felt a draft come from another opening passageway, and heard a faint buzzing sound coming from the wall to my right…as though there were a hive of bees behind it.

"She is called so because of her voice," Ilyriian stated.  "Like her mother, my aunt, Rain can raise the pitch of her voice so high that she can shatter glass with it…or men's ears for that matter.  When she was a younger, a head would made her scream uncontrollably, and the villagers near where she lived though the screams were that of a Banshee's.  A friend of hers heard the tale, and gave her the name," Ilyriian concluded. 

By that time we'd been walked for about twenty minutes...maybe more.  Just then, there was the sound of another's voice, although for the life of me, I didn't hear anyone approach.

"Who goes there?" a male's voice demanded in a slightly older form of elven.

"I do, Lyklor, with guests, I might add," Ilyriian stated.

"Bad time for visitors, descendant," the voice replied, sounding rather…odd.

"They're here to help.  You can tell Lady Rain we're coming up if you like."  There was no reply, and I sensed that the other, Lyklor, was gone, although once more, I hadn't heard him leave.

We climbed up a series of stairs, and finally, I felt the night air cool upon my skin, and Ilyriian informed us to remove our blindfolds.

I looked about blinking my eyes.  Somehow, we'd gotten from the tower into the keep.  Tunnels, and passageways, I gathered…not unsurprising for the home of a former thief, though.

The front gate was to my left, and was opened.  Directly ahead was a barracks, and a great hall, both lit with torchlight.  To my right was a stable, judging by the faint noises of horses coming from within.  Up, on the walls there were the shadows of men patrolling.  All was quiet and peaceful…it certainly did not seem as though there was a battle coming.

"Come on then, they'll all be in the Great Hall," the captain stated, striding off in that direction. 

A set of double doors nearly twice my height were the only obvious entrance to the Great Hall. Still, for all their height, Ilyriian didn't seem to have much difficulty pulling one open.

He strode in, gesturing for us to follow.  

The great hall looked like it could be a cheery place under the right circumstances.  There were dozens of smaller tables up against the walls, under large, bright tapestries. A massive fireplace was found directly to the right, and judging by the smells and sounds, there was a kitchen in the back.

At the moment, however, the place looked more like a war room.  All of the smaller tables had obviously been pushed aside, to make room for the people in there.  A large table was the focus of attention, with several maps spread out on it.  Around the table were the oddest array of people I've had occasion to come across, short of my former party that is.

Rain the Banshee was obviously their leader.  No longer the tattered street rat, or even the slightly tired mother, this woman was a warrior, with a longsword on one hip and a cutlass on the other.  She seemed to be planning some sort of strategy, laying out what was to be done on the maps before her.  Those watching seemed to be following her words as though long used to following the woman's commands.

For the others, there was the aging half-orc I'd seen with her in the tavern, some months ago, as well as the farmer-priest, whose arms were crossed, as he watched from just behind Rain.

There were three dwarves, two males who looked fairly similar to me, and…wonder of wonders, a female dwarf, with tight red braids, and no beard.  How bizarre…I'd always read that dwarven women looked just like men, beards and all, but this one, who was distinctly female, had no beard.  Her stubby little hands rested on a hammer that she held in front of her like a walking stick, with the heavy end down.  That hammer…well, there is only one word I can use to truly describe it: obscene.  It looked like it should have been wielded by a giant, not a dwarf girl.  Hells, I doubt if even I could have lifted it.  How she thought to be able to wield it appropriately was beyond me.

There was scrawny looking moon elf wearing leather armor, his hair drawn back in the untidiest braid I've ever seen.  The two riders of Mistledale were there, as well two other human males. One looked to be fairly young, and aside from the slightest hint of a point to his ears, and a tilt to his eyes, looked to be the very image of the farmer-priest.  The other was old, seated in a chair, with hair that was more brown than white, and a nose that would have been more in place on a gnome's face than a human's.

Beside the Banshee was a translucent elven knight, complete with full plate armor…a ghost.

Just when I thought things couldn't get any odder, I noticed that the "dog" lounging near the corner raised its head…and that it was not a dog, but the largest weasel I've ever seen in my entire life.

Completing my sweep of the room, I caught sight of one other being, seated just away from the table, in a shadowy corner.  I heard his voice before I could pierce the shadows with my eyes.

"Visitors, ghost?  At a time like this?  You're jesting! Even that stick of an elf, Ilyriian wouldn't bring visitors here, now," the voice was biting, sarcastic, and mildly annoyed sounding.

It took me a moment or two to realize that the skin of the speaker did not hold the light, rather seemed to absorb it.  My vision adjusting, and I saw clearly: another, miserable dark elf.

I almost laughed, in my incredulousness. I know, it seems like I should have attacked, but I am beginning to learn that when people get their minds set on a dark elf being good, there's no convincing them otherwise.  So I held my ground, all the while wondering what sort of silver tongues the drow had to trick so many good people into falling for their lies.

"Damned plague of drow about, aren't there?" I muttered, more to myself than to anyone else.  Naturally, they heard me, all turning to regard me, even as Ilyriian announced our presence.

"Well, well, the teacher," the Banshee commented.

"Yes, and the pickpocket, turned border lord…or lady, as the case is.  Haven't we covered this territory already?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.  I figured that that way, there would be less of a chance that I would give in to any sudden homicidal urges.

"Well, teacher.  What are you doing so far from school?  This isn't the best time for conference about Jaelen's behavior, I might add," she replied.

"Rain," Ilyriian interrupted. "This is Lord Nighstar…you remember the one the Queen sent me a letter about.  He's come to aid in the battle." 

"Lord Nightstar, ey?"  The woman chuckled.  I admit it did sound pompous, but it is my title.

"Is there a problem with that, Lady Rain?" I asked, emphasizing her given title.  It got the effect I wanted, as she scowled momentarily.

"Well, you've got great timing, Nightstar.  But the real question here is, what good is a metal smith against the drow?"

"Hey!" the dwarf girl exclaimed.  "I'll be taking exception to that remark!"   It figured.  She certainly looked the type, especially with that hammer.

"I was trained as a warrior, first and foremost, Lady.  But as you are from the Moonshaes, you would probably remember just as well as I the skills of a Ruathym warrior."  Her expression cooled a bit.

"Aye.  A bunch of marauding thieves and murders."

"Ah, but we were nothing if not efficient," I replied easily, while at the same time cursing at myself for taunting her.  Why in the name of all the Seldarine couldn't I ever learn to think before I speak?! 

"True," she nodded.  "But against the drow?  You'll need better than that."

"I am better than that."

"Are we done posturing, now? Can we get back to business, so that I can go home and at least be harassed by the woman I married, instead?" the dark elf's voice was scathing as it cut through the conversation.  My temper rose a notch, but I contained it, even as I noted most of the people about the table sighing, or slapping the hands over their eyes and shaking their heads, as though long used to this sort of thing.

"No one asked for your input, drow," I muttered.

"Yes, well, I given it anyhow, haven't I, gray?"  The insult had the three other elves in the room shooting the dark elf foul looks, but I only laughed, my temper firmly leashed.

"It's only an insult if one of the People speaks it.  The drow hardly qualify as elves," I needled smoothly.

"All right, now, that's enough," the Banshee held her hands up.

"Dazelin, knock it off.  Not everyone is used to your particular brand of humor.  And as for you, teacher, you're here to help, so stop attempting to piss off our wizard.  He's relatively harmless, unless your back is turned, anyhow.  Now, can we get back to planning?  We don't have a whole lot of time, and frankly, and between this battle, and the triplets, I'm in no bloody mood for petty sniping between elven racists."   It was ridiculous how quickly we all shut up…her scolding was that of a mother's.  I wonder how it is that women can do that? 

Finally she turned back to me, after shooting glares around the table.

"All right, teacher.  We've established you're a fighter, but what style?  Where's you're weapon for that matter?"   I snapped my fingers and my glove released the Fury of Battle into my hands.  I moved to rest the blade of it on my shoulder, when suddenly the half-orc's hand shot out and grabbed my wrist.  Though he was the only one in the room near my height or breadth I did not feel too challenged by him.  After all, he was quite old; wrinkled face, graying skin and hair…but in his grip was strength that his outer appearance belied.

"Where did you get this sword?" He asked, his voice, like Harl's far more coherent that I would've expected from someone with orc blood.

"Why?" I asked, allowing him to examine the blade once he'd released my wrist.  His eyes held a far away look as he responded.

"In my youth, I was a priest of Tempus…before I was shown the light of the Morninglord."  The Morninglord, I knew, was another name for Lathlander, the human god of dawn and rebirth, and the like.  There are those who liken him to my lord, Corellon, but I personally do not see any similarities.  

"I remember hearing of a weapon such as this.  A great sword with a gem of blood red in the pommel, the symbol of Tempus on the crossguard…it was called the…"

"Fury of Battle," I interrupted.  "This is that blade."

"But how do you, an elf, come to hold a holy weapon of Tempus?" The half-orc seemed confused.  

" By the will of Tempus, I should think," I replied, truthfully.

"It was said to have been shattered…this does not look so.  Are you certain it is the Fury of Battle?"  At that point, the dwarf girl hopped up on a chair, and grabbed my wrist, yanking the sword in her direction.  Like the half-orc, her strength was far greater than I would've assumed given her slight appearance.

"But it has been broken, Guar," she told the half-orc.  She twisted my wrist painfully, forcing me to angle the sword towards the light, at a horizontal level.  

"See here, the hint of a repair, hardly more than a line.  And here…" She looked up at me.

" Fine work, teacher.  Did you fix it?"  I jerked my wrist back, only slightly annoyed.

"I did.  Both blade and power have been restored," I stated, a bit proudly.  Then, ignoring the two, I looked back to the Banshee, to answer her questions.

" I fight with the great sword, and for my style, I am a berserker trained in the ways of a Ruathym warrior, although I also have received training with the soldiers of Evermeet, and thus can fight without the rage as well.  I am also skilled in wizardry, particularly spells of the evocation variety."

"So "death" is your middle name, ey?" she asked.  I believe she was attempted to jest.

" I have no middle name…but if I did, it would not be that," I replied with a frown.  The Banshee merely shook her head.

"All right.  Normally I'd test your skills by making you prove them, but I've no time now.  If you wish to help, I won't refuse."  She then proceeded to quickly introduce those about the table, before explaining the situation.

The farmer-priest was her husband, Andar.  The boy, her eldest son, with the ridiculous name of "Gully."  The hook-nosed old human was Alaric the Gull, and spoke with a voice that could make celestials weep, it was so awful.  The female dwarf was Kedra, and the two males were Takklin, the captain of the keep and Steelguard tower, and Boron, the night captain.  The half-orc, as I'd already heard was Guar.  The elven ghost was Lyklor.  The moon elf with the braid was Inialos, a ranger of the forest.  The two riders were Darach and Shella. The drow was Dazelin.  And finally, the giant weasel was the keep's "guard dog," bearing the moniker of "Mr. Chitters."  Although, considering the noise it made when it heard its name, a bizarre chittering sound, I realized that it was somewhat appropriate.

Then she went on to explain what was happening.  Apparently, Rain had a spy among the dark elves who'd been supplying the border forces with information on the drow movements for twenty years.  To date, the spy had never given them wrong information, so there was no doubt that the drow would be attacking the following night.  

Apparently, the drow of forest had gotten wind of the reduced defenses of the village of Glen, and meant to attack the dwarves while they were at their weakest.  The spy, a woman named Gwenect, had informed rain that the attack would come just before dawn, as they hoped to catch the dwarves asleep.  The spy was not certain on the numbers, but thought it would be around two or three score involved in the attack.  

The plan that they meant to use was one they'd apparently used before.  Those who be aiding in the battle would slowly move into position tomorrow, in small groups, around the and in the village.  There would be no massive troop movements, in case the drow had scouts…which they most certainly did.   Once in place, the drow would be allowed to make the first move, so that once they entered Glen, they would be surrounded.  The attack would commence, and the drow would fall.  The people in the room all seemed certain that the attack would work, as it always had, and being that I have no experience in such matter I had to believe it would, as well.  The only real worry was that with the defenders' reduced numbers, that there might be more casualties than usual.

The rest of the time was spent looking over a map of Glen, and deciding where certain groups would be positioned, various plans of attack, who would be going, and who would be left behind to guard the towers and the keep.

Over the last topic, there was a bit of debate.  The dwarf captain, Takklin, who'd apparently grown up in Glen wanted more people going to the battle, but Rain refused saying that at least a quarter of the ready forces had to be left behind to protect the keep.  Since she was the leader of the group, and Takklin's employer to boot, guess who won the argument?

A second argument broke out when the boy, Gully, asked to go with us to Glen.  His mother flatly refused.

"Absolutely not," she told him.  In typical youthful fashion, he quickly grew angry.

"Why not?  I know how to fight!  You trained me!"

"Fight, yes," his mother agreed.  "Experience?  No.  Any drow warrior would cut you to ribbons before you could blink, Gully."

"How can I become experienced if you won't let me near a real fight?" he asked, sounding frustrated.  The conversation had me feeling a sense of déjà vu…sounding very like the talk I'd had with Zelairwyn…sounding much like things my parents had once said to me, not so very long ago.  But I have to say, that I agreed with the Banshee.  Just looking at the boy, I knew that he was nowhere near ready to take on something as skilled as a dark elf.

" Look, Gully.  I know you're restless.  But if you want to adventure, find yourself a group of like-minded people, and go take on a nice band of kobolds or goblins first.  You won't last long if you go charging off to battle creatures above your skills.  And until you leave this keep, I am still in charge, and as such you are staying behind."   The boy looked as though he wanted to argue, but I gather he realized, with the finality of her tone, that it would be fruitless.  He merely sighed loudly, fists clenched.  He looked back, at his father for a moment, but the human man only shook his head slightly, taking his wife's side.  

Finally, the meeting in the great hall was adjourned, with Rain adding that we should all rest as much as we could before dawn, as it would mostly likely prove to be a long day tomorrow.

Zelairwyn and I were taken to guest rooms on the second floor of the great hall.  Before dropping into reverie, I warned Zelairwyn that he would be staying here on the morrow, and that nonsense, such as the type the boy, Gully, had displayed below would not be tolerated.

I rode out in the morning, in the company of captain Ilyriian and ten other elves.  We were to ride wide, around Glen, then circle back, and take up position, just outside of the village, on the western edge of Glen.  Once night fell, we were to move in closer and wait for a signal.  Once given, we would ride in, and attack the attackers.

At least that was what was supposed to happen.

But with all things in my life, the plan and subsequent attack did not quite goes as planned.                               


	12. Chapter 11

That night fell was about the only thing that happened according to design.

We waited all through the deepest part of midnight, as clouds flew past the moon, and cleared once more.  It was roughly three hours before dawn when there was finally movement, in the field at the edge of Glen.  A rider burst from the forest, dressed all in black, mounted upon a black horse, and looking nothing so much as a shadow with will of its own.  A large bundle was hurled from the back of the horse to the ground at the edge of the village, and with a cry of "Waela Ogglin," the rider bolted back into the forest.

"Waela Ogglin" is a phrase known to me, for many of the People study the language of our enemy, the drow, that we might better battle them.  The words shouted were of the drowish language, and roughly translated to "foolish enemies."  Apparently I was not the only one who understood the words, for a signal was given, and several people crept out, towards the bundle, ever wary for a trap.  A moment later they yelled back.

"'Tis Gwenect!"   A second signal was given, and Ilyriian gestured for our group to ride forward, and join them.

We arrived at the same time that the Banshee did.  The woman vaulted off her horse, and knelt at the side of Gwenect, whom, as I recall, was supposed to be a spy among the drow.  I dismounted as well, to get a closer look, and was not overly surprised to see that Gwenect was a dark elf.  Who else would they have for a spy?  But that she'd not betrayed the forces here in twenty years did come as somewhat of a shock to me. 

"What happened?" the Banshee asked, trying to help Gwenect into a sitting position.  Even in the dim light of the night sky, I could see that the drow had been tortured.  Her face was more red than black, covered with old blood, as well as new.  She grimaced when she was helped to sit, and I could hear the grinding of bone on bone, and saw that both her legs were bent at terrible angles.

"Sorry, Rain," she muttered.  "They suspected a traitor…gave false information to those suspected.  I was followed. They tortured me…but they didn't ask anything…only if it was me who'd betrayed them."

"It's all right Gwen," Rain stated.  She was trying to sound comforting, but I could the anger in her tone.  

"No," Gwenect gasped.  "I failed you…and worse…there is still an attack…tonight…but not here.  They attack…"

"The Keep," Rain finished, grimly.  Gwenect nodded, before falling unconscious.

The Banshee rose to her feet.  Giving quick commands, she had one of the clerics attend to the fallen dark elf. She then turned to the rest of us, the assembled forces that had gathered at Glen for the attack were silent as we listened.

"We all expected that a time would come that Gwen would get found out.  The dark elves are no fools.  And the people we left back at the Keep and the towers are able.  They'll hold for as long as they can.  But if we're to reach them in time, we have to ride as though the hounds of Cyric were at our heels.  Don't think about what might happen…think only on the battle, and what will happen if we should fail…let that guide your weapons and stop the dark elves before they cause more harm than they already have.  Now, ride!" she shouted, swinging back up into her horse's saddle.

We moved out.  There was no talk, only the sound of hooves beating the ground and the wind whipping past us.  My fury was building apace with my fear.  I had come here because I wanted to fight; had let Zelairwyn convince me that he'd be safe, yet now it would be he, and the other children and the few soldiers who'd been left behind, that must defend against an enemy they could not be ready for.  I prayed to Corellon, and Tempus both, prayed that we would be in time.  If Zelairwyn died, it meant that I had failed the Queen, and broken my vows…to the Queen, to Liralyn, and even to Zelairwyn.  I could not let that happen.  I thanked the gods that Rain had insisted on leaving some troops behind…perhaps, just perhaps, they might be enough to hold the keep in time for arrival.  But our arrival would not be for hours, no matter how fast we rode.  So I gave Lashrael 2 his head and let him race…for him, the run was a game, a victory in our battle of wills, for me it was a mad dash to save my charge from death.

The sun dawned and with it came the hope that the dark elves would retreat from the sun…but the Banshee was quick to inform us that these drow would not retreat…that time had allowed many of the Vhaeraunian drow to adapt to the light.  And though our horses, built for battle and not distances, had begun to falter, we rode harder still, knowing that at this point, time was against us.

We heard explosions even before we caught sight of the keep.  We slowed our approach, as the stone fortress came into view, trying to see what the situation was.  The main gate was up, with no apparent way into the keep, whose walls were steep, and surrounded by a deep moat.  The sounds of battle rang from within the keep, and a moment later, a catapult on the walls, which had been aimed inward, flung its load towards the enter of the keep and there was a flash of fire, and a second thunderous explosion.  

" Pray that it is Jeblek on the walls," Ilyriian muttered.

"Hmph," the dwarf, Kedra countered.  "Pray it is the dark elves, for they'll cause less damage than that blasted gnome." 

"The gates are up," Rain noted, though it was clear for all to see.  "They must've come over the walls, or in through the tunnels, somehow."

"And so must we," captain Takklin stated.  "The sally port?"  He asked.  Rain shook her head.

"They'll see it we move that many past the keep…the same if we ride for Steelguard tower.  Our best hope is Kelerandri tower, or the Bee caves…providing Kelerandri tower's stairs haven't been collapsed."

"We split our forces, then," Ilyriian said.  

"You and twenty men go for the tower," Rain agreed.  "Guar, Kedra, Captain Takklin, Daz and I are for the caves. It's the faster entrance."

"If you don't mind dodging giant bees," Dazelin muttered. Rain pretended not to hear him.

"Everyone else stay here, in position.  When the gate comes down, you ride and take out every enemy in sight.  Captain Ilyriian, you and yours try to make certain the tunnels are cleared.  I'll make certain the gate comes down."

"I'm coming with you," I told her.  She shook her head.

"You're going with Captain Ilyriian." 

"No.  Your way in is faster, and my charge is in that keep, where you assured me he'd be safe.  I go with you, or I follow you in, your choice," I crossed my arms. 

"Fine, but you fall and I'll leave your stubborn elven ass behind, got it?" she stated.  I nodded curtly.

"Let's go, and may Tymora's luck be with all of you."

We broke ranks, Captain Ilyriian and his men backtracking for the elven tower, while I followed Rain and her friends south, past the keep.  We were quick and quiet as we moved through the village, coming to a pocket of trees.  We slipped into the foliage, and Rain lead us to a natural chimney of rock, with a hole nearly six feet wide went down.  Rain pulled out a slender rode, and snapped it in half. Plumes of smoke came from it, as she tossed it down the hole.  Less than 30 seconds later, she gestured for everyone to enter.  

"You'll have to jump…it's a twenty foot fall," she stated. No one hesitated as they jumped…except for the dark elf, Dazelin, who paused long enough to cast a flight spell.  I'd not prepared one for the day.  I jumped, falling through utter darkness, forcing my self not to cough in the thick smoke. I landed hard on a surface that was not entirely hard…more sponge like…and sticky.

A low buzzing filled the air down here, but it sounded sluggish.  Rain's voice lead us through the cavern and the smoke and darkness.  Once, I nearly bumped into a giant bumblebee, that was lazily hovering, dazed by the smoke. I brushed my hand against a wall, only to feel the same stickiness on my glove, as was on my boots.  Unthinking, I tasted a bit of it from my fingers: raw honey.  The smoke started to clear, and I looked about to realize that we were in a beehive…a giant beehive, complete with bees that had stingers the size of a longsword.

Before I had a chance to marvel on that realization, there was the sound of stone grating on stone, and a large section of the wall of the hive opened outward, into a tunnel.  So this was what I'd heard when Ilyriian lead us through the tunnels earlier.  

We moved forward slowly, listening for any sound out of place.  We went through another doorway, and up a few stairs, past a pool of steaming water, and up to yet another doorway.  At this one, the Banshee paused, pressing her ear up against the wood.  She looked back, and gestured for us to make ready our weapons.  I took a deep breath, and focused on the coming fight.  

The door opened silently, on well-oiled hinges.  Beyond was a storage cavern, filled with barrels of foodstuffs, casks of wine and ale, and other necessities in a keep this large.  A set of stairs led up, with a spill of light illuminating them.  And a dozen dark elves were down in the room having come, apparently, from another tunnel off to the right. They were conversing in their cursed language…plotting. 

Our attack was swift, but not quite as quiet as it should have been, for they turned and were at the ready by the time we reached them.  I held my rage in check for the moment, knowing that down here I would need my wits about me a while longer.  Though they had the advantage of numbers, we cut through them quickly.  I used the Fury of Battle for the first time, in a true battle, and was momentarily startled to see a gout of flame erupt along its length, as I swung it towards my enemy.

He cut me once with his dark long sword, and I could feel the burn of some potion on it…poison, no doubt.  I willed myself not to be affected by it, even as the edge of rage was creeping up on me against my bidding. It was as though the Fury of Battle was urging me on, trying to make me abandon my calm.  I held out against it though, knowing that it was not yet time to rage, but allowing just enough to seep through that I could ignore the poison.

I swung my sword, even as the dark elf threw his two blades up to block the attack.  I felt a surge of energy in my muscles, and the force of my attack cut not only the drow but his two weapons as well, in half.  Out of my periphery, I saw the skill of those I battled alongside.  Kedra hurled her massive hammer with deadly accuracy connecting with first one, then a second, and a third dark elf, smashing through their slight forms like a battering ram.  Now activated, I could feel the tingle of magic radiating out from the dwarf and her hammer, without even having to lay hands upon it.  

A flare of magic, and another dark elf went down, felled by one of his own kind…Dazelin, grinning maniacally all the while as he prepared another spell. Captain Takklin hammered away at another, while the half-orc, Guar, swung a huge, heavy mace in an arc, smashing in the heads of two more.

But it was the Banshee whose swordplay dazzled.  Like her namesake, she let out a piercing wail that had the dark elves gripping their ears in pain, my own ringing loudly, but with the rage almost on me, I hardly felt any pain.  Her cutlass echoed the scream as it cut through the air. She brought up a long sword, gleaming with magical fire, and the cutlass, moving the weapons almost too fast to see.  She spun once, a blur of motion, and when the spin ended, her blades dripped blood on the ground, and her four opponents toppled like grass to the scythe, killed with precise wounds to vitals areas.

All twelve were downed in mere seconds, and with our presence most probably revealed, we charged up the stairs, to continue the fight.

The courtyard of Banshee keep was a disaster.  Craters and scorch marks pitted the stones and buildings.  One of the gatehouses was on fire, and the doors to the barracks were ajar.  More than two score drow still stood, with another score dead about the courtyard.  Elven and human soldiers lay dead amongst the intruders.  A quick count revealed that most of the forces that had been left behind at the keep and Kelerandri tower were now among the deceased.  But the battle was still being fought, had not yet been lost.

At the great hall stood a final line of defenders.  To the front were four soldiers and the night captain of the dwarves…all looking very worse for the wear.  A few villagers had also taken up weapons and fought alongside the soldiers, but could hardly hold their own for long.  From the windows of the great hall more villagers and servants of the keep hurled weapons, and shot crossbows at the dark elves…a particularly fat woman hurling pots and pans with deadly accuracy was cursing at the invaders, "Get out of my home!"

On the walls, the small form of a gnome was preparing another catapult to be fired, while the old human, Gull, fended off two drow who seemed intent on stopping the gnome.

  Near Rain's tower, the giant Mr.Chitters battled a trio of dark elves and though bleeding freely, still fought fiercely.  Not far from the weasel was another group of defenders.  This one caught my attention and held it.  The farmer–priest was there, and out of all of them, he was the oldest.  He swung his mace, blocking more attacks than he connected with flesh.  He was wounded, his brown robes red at one side, and his free hand glowed with divine power, even as his lips moved in time with a prayer.

At his side was the youth, Gully, fought with a longsword.  Another half-elf man struck out at his attackers with a pitchfork…a stable hand, judging by the straw on his clothes.  A girl, who also bore the stamp of the farmer-priest on her face was also casting, and at the spell's conclusion, vines sprouted from the ground, entangling the legs and feet of the drow attackers…good enough to slow, not stop.

And at the back, fighting one on one with a drow with only a dagger for his defense was Zelairwyn.  My charge was bleeding from a head wound, and looking tipsy, but held his own…for the moment.  But they were outnumbered. It was time to begin.  

With a roar to my gods for favor, I gave into the Fury of Battle's insistence, and unleashed my battle-rage.

It was unlike any previous rage I'd ever experienced.  I felt even stronger than usual, my every sense heightened to perfect clarity.  Though the red haze filled my thoughts, I found I still focused, could still direct my actions.  The fire of the Fury of Battle pulsed red, and I charged forward to attack.

The air was thick was sounds and screams but though I heard them all I paid them no heed.  The drow cut me, shot their little bolts at me, tipped with venom, but I felt nothing...nothing but elation and the slight resistance of their flesh and bone as I cut them down.  Zelairwyn's attacker went first and I pushed the boy behind me, with a growl of warning.  A flash of red in the courtyard caught my attention and I saw the Banshee dashing through battle, laughing and screaming, as she sliced her enemies, moving steadily for the gate.

Another explosion rocked the courtyard as dirt, debris, and drow corpses flew through the air but I paid them no mind as I continued on.  They fell to my sword one after the other.  All too soon the area around the farmer-priest and the children was cleared of foes yet my blade still thirsted for more.  The closet choice was the three…make that two drow left attack the weasel.  A breath and I was there…I exhaled and they were dead, the weasel's dagger-like teeth coated with blood as he released the last of the three.

To the gate of the hall with a roar, I went, slipping on the blood that pooled on the stones of the yard.  I slipped to one knee, vaguely felt a dark elf short sword penetrate my upper back, saw the tip come out, and through the right side of my tunic. There was a jerk, and the blade was ripped out once more…I felt nothing.  A second attack never came, as I turned fractionally to see a massive hammer blast my attackers head into jelly.  I rose and cut the corpse in half for good measure and turned back to my original target.

At the gatehouse, the number of attackers had gone down by more than half, with our group cleaving through them...but the defenders had suffered, for the last of the front line was down, and a with a spell, a dark elf wizard blasted the gates open.

I rose my arm once, and an enemy fell, but before I could move again, there came a rising sound to my ears, the roar of men and the clatter of hooves.  The cavalry had arrived.  I moved out of the way just in time to avoid the charge, as the rest of the border forces speared headed their charge into the center of the drow attackers.  The horses pulled to abrupt stop, some of them actually ending up in the hall before their could do so.  The few dark elves that stood after the charge fell in an instant to the overwhelming odds.

The last dark elf breathed his last, and a cheer went up, shaking the very stones of the walls.  I willed my self to drop the rage…it should have stopped, with no more enemies to attack…but it didn't.  The power still coursed through me, the anger, my breath coming hard to me.  I looked about, looking for another fight, a way to end what had come on me.  I knew that it was the Fury of Battle that was causing this.  In the flames limning the blade, there no hint of orange left, no blue, or yellow…the fire was as blood.  

I found my fight…the riders.  They had taken my quarry from me.  They had dared interfere.  They were humans.  In that moment, under the blade's influence, they became my enemies.  So I attacked.

The nearest rider to me leapt off his horse, holding the reins.  I doubt he saw it coming.  I ran him through, lifted him off the ground, and flung the body off my sword, that I might continue the killing.  Within myself, I tried to stop what was happened, but couldn't.

The second rider managed to fling a weapon up to block me, but I cut the weapon in half, and drew back to do the same to him.  I heard shouting, as the cheers died.

"Stop him!  Get that sword away from him!"  the Banshee's voice rose above the rest.  It caught my attention…a true challenge.  I turned to spot her, finding the red hair near the now-open main gates.  Finishing the swing, almost negligently, I swept aside the man I'd meant to kill, knocking him hard against a wall…but not killing him.

A path cleared before me, as the riders moved desperately to get out of my way.  I heard another voice from my side, this one older, wheezing slightly.

"Artifact…poses…sion," the half-orc, Guar, gasped out.

A flicker out of the edge of my vision, and I saw a hammer flying towards me. I swung up the Fury to deflect it, and the two weapons struck with an ear-splitting clatter of force that nearly shook the Fury out of my hands.  Determinedly, I held on, though I'd almost felt pain at the last.  An attacker! was my only coherent thought as I moved on the dwarf, as the hammer flew wobbly back to her gauntleted hands.

"Hold yer ground, elf!" she called at me.  I ignored her, stalking closer.  She moved to strike again, holding my full attention as she reared back to throw.  The tingle of magic hit me, but I shrugged off the effect.  A blur of red from my right, and my left, and suddenly my arms were forced apart, held.  The Fury fell from my grasp with a clatter as my fingers were pried from the hilt.  Even with it gone, the rage was still in me, still demanding that I fight on even though the only ones left to fight were my own allies.

Another wisp of a moment passed and finally, it was gone, the energy falling away from me even as the pain hit me with the force of giant-thrown boulder.

I did not scream though I wanted to.  A hiss of air through gritted teeth was all that escaped my lips as I sagged against those who held me.

"Andar!" the Banshee screamed.  I tasted blood…a lot of blood. It was in my eyes, slick as oil on my hands…the sounds of the world dimmed and I could only hear blood…my own pulse ebbing and pulsing loud as a dragon's heartbeat inside my head.  I guess maybe the dark elf's sword had done more damage than I'd felt.

It was not the farmer-priest, but the half orc who first began chanting.  I could see his mouth moving, but the blood kept me from hearing.  He looked red, but then, so did the whole world.  Who would've thought that there had been such a power in that sword?  But then, it is an artifact…and perhaps, before using it, I might have done a bit of research into its nature.

The pain of the wound healing so suddenly was almost worse that the wound itself.  Muscle and sinew repaired itself with such unnatural speed and intensity it was as though I could feel each rip in my skin, throughout my body, stitching itself back to how it was meant to be.  An eternity passed.  The farmer-priest was there, adding his voice.  More pain…more healing.  The world, which had tilted askew for a moment came back to normal, and my breath came easier, no longer fluid with my blood from my lungs.  I lifted my free hand, the Banshee still holding to the other as though I might still attack, and wiped the blood from my eyes.  The world gained hues beyond red again, although with the amount of blood that had been spilt and with the night so fully on us, it did not seem like there were many colors beyond red and black left.

My muscles relaxed as the worst of the pain faded.  As I was no longer in danger of imminent death, Andar rushed off to tend to others.  I surveyed the courtyard as I regained my bearings.  The place looked as though a disaster had struck.  Small craters pitted the stone, and bodies were strewn everywhere.  There was not drow left standing, and of the defenders who'd been outside of the great hall, only a handful yet remained.  My thought then turned towards my charge, and with so few standing, even though the people in the hall were beginning to pour out, I found him quickly enough.  He still stood, not far from where I'd found him, staring with a look of horror on his young face.  I doubted that he'd ever truly seen death before and certainly not on so large a scale.  Such a sight is not something he will soon forget, as I have never forgotten the faces of those killed at the first village I raided on.  

A voice beside me drew my attention back to my immediate surrounds.

"It was artifact possession," Guar said, repeating his earlier shout.  I knew the term.  Oft times when an item of true power is created it can overwhelm the will of the mortal who uses it.  Some artifacts are so powerful that they can fully control the actions of their wielder, while others can drive one mad...or worse.  The Fury of Battle lay on the ground but a few feet from me, dormant once more, and harmless looking…that is if any weapon could ever be harmless.   Yet I wanted to pick up again, quickly before anyone else could think to.  After all was it not mine, forged of my own blood?  My mind knew that this was the blade's was of claiming me for its wielder, wishing to return to my hand, but it did not change the compulsion in my heart.

"I know," I replied after a long moment had passed.  Rising to my knees, I reached for the sword.  It felt no different than it usually did, nothing had changed on it.  But I remember the power I'd felt in it.  

"That sword is truly the work of Tempus," Guar said.  "But if you would use it, you must learnt to control it, lest it control you."

"Control it," I repeated, dully, still staring at the Fury.

" Aye, as you had to learn to control your rage when first it came upon you."  I remembered that training well.  The training that warriors on Ruathym are given when it becomes clear they are berserkers.  Forcing your will to be able to recognize friend from foe even in the deepest throes of a berserk.  It had not been easy.  It had required a great deal of discipline, and it usually required one to force the rage to an end before one attacked an ally.  The problem with the Fury of Battle was that I do not think the sword will allow me to stop raging at will.  That is a problem, but I realized that it was also a challenge.  And after the time and effort I had put into remaking the blade, I had no intention of merely giving up.  One way or the other, I decided, I would learn to bend the sword to _my will.     _

"I will learn to control it," I stated quietly, as I snapped the sword back into its storage place in my glove.  I looked over at the Banshee.  She seemed a bit wary, but not afraid.  That was an amazement.  A glance at Guar, and then Kedra revealed the same: no fear.  Imagine that.  They were not afraid of me, even despite what I'd done.  And even more, there was a degree of respect in those gazes.  I wondered at that moment, how things might have turned out if my own party had not feared me…had respected my skills, rather than being disgusted by my actions.  What things might we have accomplished then? That these people worked together so easily and efficiently, and comfortably was enviable.  For a moment I imagined that I might someday find the same friendship, but quickly squelched the thought before it could grow further.  I have precious few friends, to be certain, of them I can hardly think of any besides Lita, and perhaps Lord Craulnober who have no fear of me.  And those two cases, well, neither are the sort to adventure any longer.

No, I am quite alone, which is at is should be for now.  I have too much to worry about anyhow, without the bother of friends.

I rose to my feet.  

"I am sorry for the death of the rider," I stated to the Banshee.  She nodded. Whether my apology meant anything or not, I did not know.

"I must find out how things have fared in the other towers," Rain stated, and with a nod to me, she stalked off.  

"See to your squire," Guar added, as he followed.  I glanced over my shoulder, to see that Zelairwyn was on his knees, vomiting.  It was a common enough reaction to have after such a fight…one that I had experienced myself.  I walked over to where he was, ignoring the stares I felt on me.  I waited until Zelairwyn was done, and handed him a flask of water.

"All the blood," he whispered, gagging a bit, as he tried not to look down.

"If it is adventure you wish, blood is something you'd best accustom yourself to," I advised him.  

"You killed so many…you cut them like they were firewood," he said.

"They were attacking.  They were evil.  They died for those choices."

"But they were still people."

"They were drow.  If their plan had gone as intended, you'd be dead, along with everyone here.  Do not feel sorry for them," I told him.  

"I thought…I thought adventuring was discovering treasures and fighting evil monsters…this is slaughter," Zelairwyn said.  

"Sometimes adventuring is both.  Most of all, it is protecting those who cannot protect themselves from a foe would harm them.  Sometimes the foe is a monster with a face that might seem fair," I explained.  Whether he understood or not, I didn't know.  Hells, sometimes even I don't understand things like this…but I do know that it is the way of life.

The rest of the night was spent securing the fortress, and the towers.  Apparently, the dark elves had gotten in through Steelguard tower, and used the tunnels to invade.  A good many     dwarves there had died holding the upper floors, protecting the children there.  But they'd been unable to keep the dark elves from the tunnels.  

Thanks in part to the ghostly elf, Lyklor, and the elves left in Kelerandri tower, the dark elves had never made it out of the basement there.  Once Captain Ilyriian had joined the fray, the battle died swiftly.  As far as is known, not a single dark elf escaped from either of the three battlefields.  Their dead numbered nearly one hundred…no small number for the settlements of Cormanthor.  As for casualties on the side of the defenders, most of the guards left behind were badly wounded, or dead, but few of those who'd arrived late had died.

Once the fortress was secure, the task of cleaning up began.  Bodies were removed, priests went about healing, blood was mopped up and washed away.  The explosions from above had been caused by the fort's resident gnomish Gondsman, follower of the god of inventions.  The damage from his catapults was minor, and repairs were begun shortly after noon the next day.

Zelairwyn and I departed the following morning.  I was anxious to get him back to Everall, where'd he'd be out of harm's way once more.  Before I left, I was given an amulet to wear, by the Banshee.  I was told that should another attack come, and if I wished to aid once more, I need only wear the amulet, and I would be teleported back here if I was needed.  I put it on as soon as it was given.  After all, it had been the queen's command that I help as best I could against the dark elves.  And I had no intentions of defying her…at least not in this.


	13. Chapter 12

Yet another chapter for those of you read and like this story.  I am writing them as fast as I can, and will post more as often as I can.  Critical feedback is welcome…but then, any feedback at all is a wonderful thing, and something I look forward to.  Enjoy. Azurielle

The return trip to Everall was fairly uneventful.  Zelairwyn recovered quickly form his shock on the night of the battle, and seemed more determined than ever to learn to defend himself. 

We arrived back at the school not long after the sun had reached its noon apex.  At Liralyn's house there was a "welcoming party" awaiting our arrival.

My gold cousin, looking fair as always would have been fairer still, had there been any pleasant expression on her face.  As it was, she was trying to be calm, to retain the outward apathy that the Ar'Tel' Quessir tend to show to the world.  She was not quite succeeding for there was a flash of anger in her silver eyes that was hard to miss…more, I sensed that that anger was not all directed at her son.

"Lord Nightstar," she began, her voice measured and even.  "I was under the impression that you had been sent here to protect my son."  I nodded, waiting for the impending lecture, for her tone was one that only an upset mother could possibly achieve.

"Then pray explain to me how taking Zelairwyn to Banshee Keep during a drow attack is "protection"?" her arms were crossed under her breasts, her back stiff as a paladin's at that moment.

"Is he dead?" I asked her.  Before she could answer, I went on.  "Does he appear harmed?  No.  That is because I fulfilled my duty and _protected him."_

"You took him into a battle!" she stated, sharply. 

"I took him where I assumed he would be safe, that keep having never been invaded by the dark elves in all the years since it was rebuilt," I corrected.

"He is a child! You had no business taking him to the border, or anywhere but back here!"  She was beginning to lose her temper…it must come from the Nightstar side of the family, I thought.

" Must I remind you that I am also here to aid against the drow, and that had they broken the border line there, it would have only been a matter of time before that border failed elsewhere, leaving this school, and your children in jeopardy?" 

"That is not the point!  In any case, even should such a thing have happened, which knowing the reputation of Banshee Keep's inhabitants, would never have come to pass anyhow, danger would not come to Everall!  We have taken measure to ensure the safety of this school!"

"Then if it so safe, why was I sent here to protect a boy whom, I might mention, has no knowledge as to why he requires such a guard?"  Her silver eyes flashed angrily and momentarily, with fear.

"That is none of your affair!"  

"And I contest that it is! It is my life, and it is his!  And having been in such a position where well-intended ignorance was meant as a protection, and ultimately proved to be the worst sort of detriment, I can say I know exactly what the consequences of such ignorance is, therefore as Zelairwyn's guard I make it my affair, lady cousin."  She did not reply.  Her face flush with anger, she turned to Zelairwyn.

"Leave us."

"No," he refused.

"I said, _go to your room!" she clarified more stridently._

"Mother, I want…" Zelairwyn tried to protest.

"After the amount of trouble you have caused you are in no position to make requests. Now, go!"  He looked defiant, he wanted to be defiant, but I shook my head at him.  I'd given my word to aid him, and I would do that but I knew from experience that now was not the time for him to press her for information.  He left, stomping his boots loudly against the stairs, making his own anger heard in any manner he could.  In a trice, my cousin's attention was back on myself.

"You have no idea of what you speak," she told me.

"Don't I?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"My son…who he is makes him a target.  And thus far, members of the royal family have not fared well when it comes to survival."

"It is not right to keep his father's identity from him.  He rebels now because of the secrets surrounding him.  He does not understand why he should require special protection when none of his siblings do." 

"Every member of his father's family in line for the throne has suffered a terrible fate, except for two.  Two!"

"By your own accounting he is not in line for the throne.  As Ar'Tel Quessir, he never will be.  What are you so afraid of?" I asked.  She wavered, but stood fast.

"It is not your business.  My son is my affair, and mine alone!  You are his guard, and a distant relative, nothing more!  So mind your own task, and your own child, and I will mind mine!"   She stalked away deciding that the conversation was at an end, I suppose.

So she won the first battle, but I did not intend to give up easily.  She was hiding something…something far more than the identity of a father from his son.  And if little else, I am curious.  I will find out the truth.  It's only a matter of time, which as one of the People, I have an abundance of.

Meanwhile, I had no end of topics that I had to deal with, to think about.  Zelairwyn and his problems, my cousin and her secrets, the nature of my sword and how to control it, when I might be called into service once more, what to teach my students, who would be returning to school in short order, my position in my family and where I would stand in years to come with my decision not to wed or provide an heir.  All were hard subjects to work with, and all could have easily occupied my mind as I trudged up the stairs…but when I reached my apartments, I quickly learned that there was a more pressing matter at hand.

She was waiting for me, seated on a chair just beyond the door, her feet swinging in the air a few inches off the floor, kicking back and forth. Sanhandrian sat on her shoulder, his ears laid flat with irritation that I could feel through our bond.  Her little hands were fisted in lap, as she glared up at me.  I didn't even manage to get a word out before my darling Sera erupted into a tantrum of intensity, the likes of which I had not seen in sometime.

"You left without me!" she began shrieking as she leapt to her feet.  "You promised!" she wailed.

"Sera…"I began, but she would not hear it.

"You said you wouldn't ever leave me!" she screamed, her elven form wavering at the edges.

"Sera…" my voice held a warning that she completely ignored.  The elven child vanished in a moment, and replacing that form was Sera, in her full glory.  Nearly 7 feet high, and longer than length-wise, she effectively filled the room, her bluish-silver scales gleaming dully in the light from the windows.

"You left me, and you took that…boy with you instead!  You love him more than me!" she threw herself to the floor with a resounding thud, her tail thrashing about wildly, knocking over the chair she'd been sitting on.  Sanhandrian scurried up the wall, seating himself on a torch sconce, abandoning his annoyance at also having been left behind, in favor for security from the imminent danger to his small self.

"Sera, I do not love him more than you…and I didn't take him with me, I had to go find him," I shouted over the din she was causing, trying to explain, despite the knowledge that such a tactic rarely works.

"You never play with me anymore…you're always busy!" she cried tears large enough to fill a potion bottle, slamming her tail into the wall, and beating her claws against the floor.  I sighed, knowing I could never win this argument.  Sera wanted to be free to spend time with her friends, so I backed off and let her, no matter that it hurt to see how fast she was growing up and away from me. Yet because I had done so, she saw it as my abandoning her.  I swear the minds of children and women remain an anathema to me.

"Sera, please try to understand I…" I began.  She shook her head violently and roared.  A blast of icy air and shards flew from her throat, freezing the wall beside me.  Deciding then, that perhaps I should let her calm down before talking to her, trying to explain, I turned to leave the room.  At this point there was nothing for me to say that she would listen to.  She shrieked louder as I moved to open the door and leave her to her tantrum.  Throwing herself about, her tail twitched, and slammed into my legs.  I am certain it was an accident.  All the same, I tripped, falling to the side.  The side of my head hit the edge of the chair she'd knocked over, and pain spiked through my head, as I blacked out.

I stirred what must have been only moments later.  My head felt terrible.  It was worse than the most painful headache I've ever had.  My other wounds did not feel so great either, and I felt something oozing against the skin on my chest…presumably something had reopened.  I groaned, resisting the urge to vomit.  Hovering over me, Sera was still crying, once more in her elven shape.  For a moment there seemed to be two of her, but the image converged back into one as I forced my vision to focus.

"Daddy!" she cried, shaking my shoulder.  "Please be all right…please!  I'm sorry…I didn't mean to hit you!  Daddy please wake up!"  Her voice, childish, was high pitched and loud, sending new lances of pain through my head.

"Shh…"I managed.  It didn't work as I'd planned.

"You're alive!!" she shrieked.  I sat up quickly, no matter the wave of vertigo such an action caused, and clapped my hand over her mouth.

"Shh!  Sera, please!  Daddy's head hurts very much, so please keep your tone low!"  I ordered, raising my other hand to cover the spot on the side of my head where the majority of the pain was emanating from, as though that might somehow cause it to cease.  She at least was good enough to look sorry, as she nodded her agreement.  I moved my hand away.

"I'm so, so sorry, Daddy," she whispered, almost too low to hear.  "I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear!"

"I know you didn't," I told her, wishing only for a drink, or for something to numb the pain.  "However, you must try to remember that you're a very big in your true form, and that such thrashing about and carrying on is unacceptable for a young lady, or a dragon," I tried to keep the reprimand mild, but at the same time I didn't want a repeat performance.  "Besides hurting me, you might have hurt Sanhandrian, or yourself…and you've damaged the room, the walls, and the chair, none of which belong to you.  Now you'll have to apologize to Lady Liralyn for the mess, and you will use some of your hoard to repair it, is that clear?"  She nodded, fresh tears tracking their way down her cheeks.  I sighed, and hugged her against me.

"How could you ever think I would love someone more than you?" I asked her, happy to note than the pain was settling to a dull throb in my head.  

"You went away.  You didn't even tell me where you were going," she whispered, her words catching a little, as she tried to stop her crying.

"Sera, _I didn't even know where I was going.  Zelairwyn ran away…do you understand "ran away"?" I asked.  She nodded._

"It's when someone leaves and doesn't tell anyone, because they aren't supposed to go, and they don't want to come back."

"That's right.  But running away is bad because you might get hurt by bad people, and because it makes the people you love worry about you.  Zelairwyn's mother was worried, so she asked me to go find him."

"Did bad people try to hurt him?" she asked.

"Yes," I told her.  It wasn't quite an untruth.  The drow, after all, would have hurt Zelairwyn given the chance. And he never would have been in such a position had he not run off.

"Did you save him?" was her next query.

"I did, but some of those people hurt me when I stopped them. So you see why running away is never a good idea?  You might get hurt, but the people you love will be hurt too."

"I won't run away," she vowed. I hoped she meant it, but who can tell with children.

"But do you know what hurts most, Sera?"  I asked her.  She shook her head, snuggling closer, reminding me of when she had been very young.

"That you didn't trust me to come back…that you thought I would leave you," I told her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I get afraid."

"Why?"

"That you'll have a real daughter, like Kelly, and you'll love her more than me," she confessed.

"Who said you're not my real daughter?" I asked, a little angrily.

"Lots of people," she refused to name any names in specific.

"Sera, you'll always be my daughter.  I will always love you, no matter if I have other children.  You'll always be the first."  I did not tell her that I had no intention of siring another child…ever.  

"Now, come on.  We'll straighten up this mess, then I want to go rest for a bit.  You can apologize to Lady Liralyn after dinner.  And tomorrow, I promise, we'll do whatever you want."

"Can I ride Lashrael 2?" she asked.  

"If you want," I sighed.  She knows how much I dislike her to ride the devil-horse…even if the beast is ten times more amiable towards Sera than he is towards me…acts like a damned garden party pony with her on his back.  Smiling now, and wiping away the last of her tears, Sera stood up, caught sight of the blood on my tunic, and promptly began screaming that I was bleeding, that she'd killed me, and for someone to come help, despite my assurances that it wasn't nothing serious.

The rest of the day did not get much better from there.

Dinner was a sorry affair.  Sera moped and fidgeted over her impending apology.  Zelairwyn sulked, and cast dagger-filled glances as his mother, alternating with pleading expressions towards me.  Liralyn ate without her usual grace, hands grabbing trays with angry gestures.  She would not meet anyone's eyes.  Everyone else was obvious uncomfortable by the emotions thick in the air, and most of them left as early as they could.  My head was still throbbing steadily, leaving me with little appetite.  I was glad when the whole thing was over with, and departed as soon as Sera finished saying she was sorry for the damage she'd caused, and handed over a small bag of her hoarded coins to Liralyn, who accepted them with admonition that a lady should leave to control her temper.  It was in me to say that perhaps she should heed her own advice, for Liralyn had been in quite a temper earlier…or that I might tell her that my daughter needs no advice from a woman who has _ children by a like number of different father…or even that, as she had told me to keep out of her affairs with her son, so she should do likewise with me and my daughter…but I said none of those things, biting my tongue as it were, and returned to my rooms without incident. I slipped gratefully into reverie as soon as Sera had been tucked into bed, wanting only for the whole miserable day to be put behind me.   

Time passed, as it tends to do.  As the days became weeks, things began to settle into a routine once more.  I had yet to convince Liralyn to tell Zelairwyn the truth by the time Midwinter had come and the snows were heavy on the ground.  

As promised, I'd begun working with Zelairwyn, training him in the art of battle, and forcing myself to be a hard taskmaster.  I knew that Liralyn was right in thinking that, even removed from the line of succession, there would be those who would still see Zelairwyn as a threat and want him dead, or try to use him as a hostage against the Queen's affections.  To falter in my training him meant that he might falter when the crucial moment came.  To keep that from happening I forced him to spar until his arms could no longer lift the wooden sword I trained him with…to run until his muscles could no longer hold him up.  To his credit, he did not whine or beg for respite.  In fact, he fairly hummed with determination and there were times when he would continue on with his practice until long after I advised him to stop.  He would grow angry every time I slipped a weapon past his defense, and cry tears of rage if he could not manage to master something when he wished to.  He is much stronger than I was at a like age.

Still, he learned well, and had the skill necessary to be good…no doubt the blood of his father, and grandfather running in his veins attested to that skill.  He focused on the bastard sword, although I was insistent that he train with all sorts of weapons, as I had.  The sword, which could either be used with one hand, or two, was like enough to the great sword that I had no problems teaching it.  

During the hours I taught him, usually after I'd finished with my other classes for the day, Sera was a constant watcher.  She would sit by the edge of the yard, pretending to be studying her books on magic, but watching us, all the while.  I knew she was jealous of any time I spent with Zelairwyn, and so I was forced to be careful to spend at least as much time, if not more with her.  Her friends still keep her occupied a good deal of the time and she still strives for a degree of independence, but I've grown to notice that no matter how far ahead of me she might walk, she still looks back, over her shoulder to see that I am there.

My students work hard at their craft and learning. For my elven history class, we are currently working on the history of the elven kingdom known as Aryvandaar, which rose to power shortly after the magical sundering of Faerun that occurred when Evermeet was created by the high magi.  Aryvandaar, where high magi towers numbered in the hundreds, where the elven people were ruled by a gold elven council of elder ruled, and Evermeet was a place that many of the People only dreamed of seeing.  They were currently researching the fall of Sharlarion, which had been the capital city of Aryvandaar, a fall which had left Evermeet as the last great kingdom of elves, and with the only high magi left in the world.  The students were as fascinated by the subject as I had always been.

A few of the other history teachers have introduced me to an idea designed to help the students practice their researching and reading skills: after-class work.  So I have told each of them that they must choose one specific place relevant to elven history, research and find as many details they can on it, and write down the information, and their opinion as to why that particular place still exists, or why it fell.  Naturally, neither Evermeet nor Evereska, both being far too easy to research, are options for the assignment.  Most of the students have taken to the idea eagerly, brining forth a multitude of topics for my approval.  Zelairwyn, however, did not seem overly happy as he is not the best of students when it comes to book work, and as he spends much of his free time studying weapon play. 

In my smithing class, I've finally gotten them up to the actual steps of creating an item of their own choosing.  It is a great deal of work, requiring time and effort on their part and mine.  They constantly ask my advice on the matter of one thing or another.  Do you think the line of this blade is straight?  Have I heated the fire too much, or not enough?  How can I get the silverwork to look like so?  Those were the types of questions they asked me.  I must admit, though, I did not have ready answer for every question they had.  They spend a great deal of time doing things over and over again, until they got it just right, for I had informed them that there was no point in completing anything if there was any sort of flaw in it.  I'm a bit of a perfectionist I am told.  Poor Talath is so far behind I fear he will never complete a single thing.  Meanwhile Jaelen and Sorcha have a contest going that they think I don't know about over which one will complete their item first.

In the very rare moments in which I actually have spare time, I have been doing research of my own in the library of the school.  Though it is extensive, I've had little luck searching for any information on the Fury of Battle.  My few attempts at trying to control the rage brought on by the sword have nearly ended in catastrophe for the few I have managed to convince to aid me.  I have been unable to gain the slightest control over the rage, although I have learned, through the experiments, that the potency of the rage is increased by nearly double the usual when I use the sword.  So basically it is of use if there are a great number of enemies about me, or at least no allies with me.  

After a bit of asking about I learned that I might have more luck on discovering the sword's nature within the libraries of a temple to Tempus.  Fortunately there is a rather large temple, the Abbey of the Sword very near to Ashabenford, and I have sent a letter there requesting copies of any information found on the Fury of Battle, along with a sizeable donation, that I might actually receive said information.

Until such time as I can learn more about the weapon, though, I have decided to refrain from using it, unless the situation is dire.  To that end, I confiscated anew great sword from the armory, and have spent the better part of the winter enchanting it that it might be actually useful.

My other research involves Zelairwyn's medallion.  Since I am unable to remove it from him, study of it is difficult.  One of the teachers, a human by the name of Corun Ilbraith, who was a excellent artist and cartographer, among other skills, drew a detailed drawing of the amulet.  Thus far there has been nothing quite like it in any books I have gone through.  A simple identification spell gained me little more information than I had already known, forcing me to research a more powerful spell to try.

The second spell yielded better results.  I learned exactly the types of effects the medallion produced.  There was the illusion spell, which was a greater illusion.  It allowed for the altering of anything, including sight, scent, and sound.  Underneath the illusion spell was a polymorph spell.  Such a spell was like the illusion, in that it hid a true form with another, exactly like Sera's ability to change shapes.    The two spells seemed odd to me, for normally the illusion spell would suffice on its own.  Why stack the two?  

There was also a powerful protection spell, much like a ring of protection.  It would cause a good many lesser attacks to be deflected away from Zelairwyn.

Hidden deeper was a geas spell, and a concealing spell.  The former was a compulsion type of spell with specific boundaries.  The one on the amulet forbade anyone but the caster from removing it.  The latter was to keep the amulet unnoticed by anyone who meant harm to the wearer; to keep anyone who might try to take the amulet off by force from seeing it, I suppose.

All in all the sum of the spells made for a very interesting puzzle.  Zelairwyn claimed he could not remember a time when he had not worn it, nor could he remember having had it removed…ever.  The magic on the amulet was powerful, so much so that the dispel magic I tried on it did not work even mildly.  I thought that a greater dispel might work but since I do not have access to such a spell, nor have I the skill yet to cast it, it will have to wait for a later time.

Yet I wondered just what was it my cousin was hiding about her son?  Why the need for such a powerful protective item if she never meant for him to go anywhere dangerous?  And why the illusions?  Zelairwyn is even more confounded.  He wanted to go immediately to his mother and demand an answer, but I was quick to counsel against it.  Parents, I informed him, did not react well to such demands on the part of their children, especially involving something they'd obviously been secretive about.  I told him to bide his time and that, one way or another, we would find the answer to the questions.

I suppose I might have spoken with the resident divination wizard to learn more, but the man, Selvan Kalnost was also the necromancy teacher…and there was something about him that bothered me.  Oh he seemed a nice enough fellow.  He had dusky tan skin and sun-bleached blond hair, and I was told he hailed from Calimport: a human city to the very far south.  Still, there is something odd about a man who spends his days either staring into a crystal ball or pool of water, looking for insight, or cutting up corpses trying to discern how "things" work. 

Aside from all that, and the few fights I've managed to pick with Kalanas and his "brother," things have been rather quiet.  I might also add that this is the longest I've been celibate for two decades.  Its not that I've lost interest, only that there aren't a whole lot of options here at Everall.  The few female teachers are either attached, not my type or too old.  The one or two I have spent any time with have little interest in any sort of attachments, even casually.  As for the rest, they are mostly students, and therefore mostly off limits.  Some of the older students are fair enough, but the idea of having relations with one of the girls I'm supposed to teach is somewhat nauseating.  It would be like sleeping with Allianna…no matter how pretty they are, they're someone I'm supposed to be looking out for, not seducing.  

And as for my cousin, Liralyn is quite attractive, and judging by her numerous children, not overly concerned with appearances or relationships.  Still, even if we were on better terms, and not in a stalemate over Zelairwyn, she is most clearly attached to another.  Apparently, despite all of her children after Rhylaun, she still bears some affection for the boy's father Kalanas.  On more than one occasion I happened to see the drow at the house, in my cousin's company.  Whenever he is there, I find a reason to remove myself, Sera, and oft times, Zelairwyn from the grounds.  If Liralyn chooses to court death and danger, that is her choice, although it is my belief that she must be somewhat mad.  However, keeping Sera and Zelairwyn from such dangerous exposure is my responsibility.  I may not have come up with proof enough to kill the dark elf, but I won't risk my charge or my daughter in trying to do so, n matter how much I despise Kalanas.  

The Midwinter festival came and went, with a great deal of excitement on the part of the students, all of whom were given two ten-days respite from school work during that time.  There was a grand fest at the dining hall on the Midwinter's day for the students, and a smaller affair later that night for the teachers.  Gifts were exchanged throughout the vacation, with everyone celebrating the turn of the year towards spring.  

I did not involve myself too much with the festivities, however.  For one, I was still not very friendly with many of the other teachers…my own fault, though, for I disliked socializing for the most part, and my antipathy towards the dark elf had not made me a great favorite, for he was liked by many.  Then there was the bit of homesickness I was finally beginning to feel.  Oh, it wasn't so much my home I missed, but rather my family.  As much as I have complained about them in the past, I had spent all of the most recent Midwinters with them, and I rather wished that they were here with Sera and I.  There was no little brother running about, nor were my sisters and Orianna giggling about whether or not Tobias would like their new dresses.  I had not my father there to argue with, or Sylthas and Tobias to with me to one of the many parties.  And my mother was not there to give me a kiss and tell me how much she loved me.

I missed them, and in my loneliness I avoided the festivities, feeling that it would only make that longing worse, seeing everyone so happy.

A few days after the festival, I received a package from Evermeet, from my family, which went a long way towards cheering me from my melancholy.  There were gifts in it for Sera and I, as well as a letter describing the few events that occurred while I was gone.

There had been no great news for them to report, although they did say that Tobias was planning to leave Evermeet, once the spring came and ships sailed.  My sisters, my mother wrote, were heat broken over the news.  I think that they will survive the "heartbreak," and I'm rather glad that Tobias would be returning to the mainland, actually, as I had a few favors to ask of him, including Zelairwyn's request that I find out what happened to his friends in Evereska.

 The spring thaw came early, and left us without an abjuration teacher.  Shelinda had slipped away to Arvandyr shortly after Midwinter.  Liralyn is, of course, looking for a replacement, but claims that it might be some time before one is found.  Sera was naturally upset for she had liked the ancient elven woman greatly. She has been pestering me more and more of late about how all of her friends have mothers, and she doesn't have one.  She has also been asking odd questions, about whether or not I was in love with anyone.  

Personally, I think she spends far too much time with her friends, and reads far too many romantic stories, of which she has amassed dozens of, though her friends' generosity.  I suppose that I should be glad she'd reading, but must it be such nonsense?  The next thing I know she'll be telling me she means to join the cult of Hanali Celanil.  The elven goddess of love, indeed.  More like a deity for dreamers and fools…which explains why Tobias follows her.  She's as bad as Erevan Ilesere…the child's god of pranks and trouble.  The Seldarine is, in my opinion, the greatest pantheon of gods in all of Faerun…and would probably be far more respected if it weren't for gods as irresponsible as those two.

Not long after the Greengrass festival of spring the students in my history class asked if I would tell them more of the royal family of Evermeet.  Apparently the topic had come up in conversation and they wanted to know more.  

It was a subject on which I had made myself well versed during the most recent two decades I had spent in Evermeet. Certainly it seemed like a harmless enough subject, and was something that they would be required to know if they truly wished to understand elven history…still, I wasn't certain if it was a good idea to be teaching it now, in light of the ongoing arguments I had been having with Liralyn.  She might see it as my interfering again.  At the same time, though, I cannot not think of any other plausible excuse not to fulfill the request. 

So with a bit of trepidation, I gathered all the necessary notes and books together and prepared the appropriate lessons.

  The story of the royal family is quite an interesting one, and yet tragic as well.  On Evermeet my access to the great libraries there had me come across a book, written by a human no less, chronicling the history of the elves.  As an overview, it was actually quite insightful, and focused especially on the lives of the king and queen.  I had copied several portions out of it, though it is a restricted book and even I did not have access to parts of it.

Using a copy spell I handed out portions of the story to the students, and spoke on more detail of what the pages did not explain.  

They were, as I had been, fascinated by King Zaor's rise to power, and his reluctance to claim that power, even though it was clear to all that he was meant to be king of the People, as prophesized by the great seer Ethlando, one of the few survivors of Aryvandaar.  They learned how the King was forced to wed Lydi'aeera Amarillis against his will, for political purposes, and of how Lydi'aleera had killed herself by attempting to draw the king's moonblade after her son, Rhenalyr had failed to draw the sword, dying, and thus proving he was not worthy to be an heir of Evermeet.  I explained in great detail of how Amlaruil had become queen after that, and of how she and Zaor ruled so well for the years following that.  They were saddened and intrigued by the deaths of the many royal heirs…all of them seemingly accidental and tragic.  I was careful not to spend too much time focusing on the princes Xharlion and Zhoron who'd disappeared during an attack on the Moonshaes by a terrible creature known as the Elf eater, a creature of the Beast God, Malar, which devoured the bodies and souls of elves.  We finished with the betrayal of the Ar-Tel Quessir, Kymil Nimesin who was discovered to be behind many of the royal deaths, including the assassination our King Zaor.  He'd been so clever in his evil that he'd even managed to trick Prince Lamruil into aiding him in his search for Lamruil missing older siblings, always arriving "too late" to save any of them.  

I told them each to choose a member of the royal court, research, and write a report on said person.  I in no way influenced their choices, and yet was quite dismayed when Zelairwyn chose the twin princes, one of whom was his own father, for his report.  I have to hope he mentions nothing of this to his mother, for I know she will think I assigned him Xharlion deliberately.  I am starting to become fond of the school and comfortable in my position here, and despite my belief that Liralyn should tell Zelairwyn his father's name, I have no desire to jeopardize my place here by going against her wishes.

I think, perhaps, that it was not wise of me to think ill of the god, Erevan Ilesere.  I imagine that even the gods of mischief does not care for being distained, for he had certainly managed to play a jest on me. 

As I had written such a fear only a few days ago, so it has come true.  Zelairwyn has found out the truth, and though I never said a word, it was from me he found it out. 

He arrived early to history class, apparently wishing to speak with me about his report.  I was running late with the smithy class, for Talath had managed to burn himself yet again.  Since I had last been writing here, in the classroom, I had foolishly left the most recent section of my journal there.  

Zelairwyn, being the curious little brat he is decided to sit at my desk and snoop through my things. Since I have never had to be overly concerned about anyone reading my journal, I didn't even think anything of it.

At least I never did until I walked in to the classroom to see Zelairwyn staring down at the last entry in my journal, his golden skin ashen, the rough draft of his report crumpled in his clenched fist on his lap.

I knew immediately what he had to have read in that entry, and damned myself for a fool three times over, knowing that I had just inadvertently caused more trouble for myself than usual.

I suppose I might have been angry at him for reading my journal, especially considering it does contain my private thoughts, but all things considered he was upset enough over learning what he'd just learned.  Furthermore, after having my parents read the journal, I'm not overly protective of it…although perhaps I should be.

Finally hearing my entrance or at least sensing my presence at last, he turned his head in my direction, silver eyes wide and staring.

"Zelairwyn?" I asked, misliking the look of terrible shock on his face.  He did not respond.  I stepped closer.

"Zelairwyn?" I repeated, more insistently.  Still he remained unresponsive.  Putting a hand on his shoulder, I shook him gently.

"Zelairwyn, I know what you read.  I know it must be a terrible shock."  He started to laugh, low at first, then gaining in pitch until the sound grew distinctly unhealthy.  He stared down to the pages in his clenched hand, laughing for a long moment before screaming in rage, tearing the pages and hurling them across the desk.

Even over the din Zelairwyn was causing, I heard the voices of the other students headed towards the classroom.  I left the desk and the screaming boy for a moment, long enough to stick my head out the door and inform them that class was canceled for the day, and that they were free to do as they wished.  I quickly shut the door and bolted it, not wanting uninvited visitors. I knew that Zelairwyn would not wish any one to see him like this, as I would never want anyone to see me in a similar state.

By the time I turned back to him he had slid off the chair, to the floor, and had doubled over, as though he was in pain.  His screams had subsided, changed into terrible heaving sobs that echoed in the empty classroom.  

I wasn't exactly certain what to do, given the situation.  Were it Sera, I would have hugged her to me until her tears stopped, telling her that everything would be alright.  Zelairwyn was most definitely not Sera, however. 

Awkwardly, I knelt beside him, put my hand on his back to at least let him know I was there.

"Zelairwyn," I said, quietly.  "You must calm down.  Talk to me.  Let me help you."  He shook his head violently, coughing for his sobs were so hysterically he was having trouble catching his breath.  At least I know he'd heard me.

"Look, I know this must come as a shock to you.  For my part, I can't fully imagine what you're feeling.  But it is not really so bad is?  I've heard that Xharlion was not a bad person, that he might have been an elf to rival his father."  Zelairwyn shook his head.

"Not…that…" he gasped out, speaking for the first time.  At least he was trying to talk.  That was good…talking that is, or so Celedor always told me.

"Then what?" I asked him, trying to draw forth more conversation.  Zelairwyn seemed to make a visible effort to slow his breathing to try to calm.  As I said, despite everything, Zelairwyn is not the sort who cries all that easily, thus I knew he was truly upset.  When he had managed to silence the worst of his crying but for a few small sobs that escaped him…proof that he was still hurting, he tried to explain.

"I just…I thought he was just some noble.  I thought that…that he was s-still alive, and maybe th-that he would come see me someday.  That he would want me…  I wanted a…a father…'cause all my brothers an' sisters have one, an' I don't…but now…now…I'll never get to meet him…I'll n-never know if…if he w-wanted me!  Even if I die, I'll never see him, cause the…elf…eater…killed him!  And that m-means…ev-even his soul!"  Zelairwyn all but wailed the last, collapsing into sobs once more, drawing his legs tight against his chest and burying his face in his arms.

I wasn't certain what to do.  I had never thought of Prince Xharlion's death in such terms…but could now understand, to a degree, why Zelairwyn was so terribly upset. The boy had hoped that his father would miraculously come for him someday…and in learning the identity of his father, he'd learned that not only would Xharlion never come for him, but even in the after life in Arvandyr, Xharlion would not be there.

I thought of telling him that it might not have been Xharlion, but Zhoron who'd been eaten by the elf-eater.  After all, the truth was that the accounts of what had happened that day on the Moonshaes only agreed that _one_ blue-haired elven youth had been eaten…there had been no evidence as to what had happened to the other.  There was a chance, never mind how minute, that Xharlion was still alive somewhere on the Moonshaes.  But I did not say that.  For one, Zelairwyn might have already learned that in doing his research paper.  For another, I did not want to give him false hope when I doubted there was any hope at all.  After all, if Xharlion Moonflower was still alive, after all this time, he damned well should have had the decency to get word to the Queen…and if he hadn't any decency, then he certainly didn't deserve to be able to claim Zelairwyn for his son. Still, I knew that the sound of a voice speaking might help, so I spoke, keeping my hand on his back, continuing to let him know that I was still there.

"Zelairwyn, I know it hurts.  And I know what it is like to lose a father."  He shook his head, disagreeing, as he knew that my father was not dead.  I clarified.

"I know my father is still alive but for a very long time I believed otherwise.  I thought that I had lost both he and my mother in the ocean while I had survived when, by all rights, it should have been me who died.  And I lost both my foster parents, two people whom I loved as dearly as my birth parents.  Losing someone…it is never easy.  And as for not meeting him in Arvandyr, I do not think that is true.  Remember that princess Ilryana, your aunt, did battle with the elf-eater as the avatar of Angharradh.  It is believed that she might have slain the creature, and perhaps, just perhaps in doing so, she released the souls of the elves it had taken."  I do not know whether the last part was true in any form, but it seemed a reasonable assumption.  After all, the Seldarine are a most powerful pantheon, and Angharradh is the embodiment of not one, but three of the elven goddesses.  That power, combined with the power of the princess Ilyrana is a fore that very little evil could stand against.  The gods accomplish miracles as a daily occurrence.  Why would they not work to save the souls of their own people?    

"But I'll never see him!" Zelairwyn cried.  

"Yet you do see him…every time you look in the mirror you see a part of him," I replied. Zelairwyn shook his head.

"I'm gold…he was moon. I look like her…not him," he protested.  

"Your features perhaps they show the resemblance.  You may be more like him than yo…" I paused for a moment my mind beginning to consider something I had not dare consider before.  A thought…and a terrible one occurring to me at that moment, as though the gods had struck me with it.  What if Zelairwyn did resemble his father?  What if the boy who, in truth, carried far more moon elven blood than gold, resembled his father?  Zelairwyn coloring did resemble his mother…but not the features.  I had never seen a likeness of Xharlion Moonflower or his twin, Zhoron, but I assumed such a likeness had to exist.  And if it did, then anyone seeing it and seeing Zelairwyn might be able to compare the two. Perhaps that was the reason for the amulet… perhaps Liralyn was trying to change some of her son's features so that he would never be recognized.  Then another thought followed the first…a thought that made sense of the amulet, my presence, and so much more.  I hardly dared to consider it.  I hardly dare to write it now.  But write I shall to try to make sense of things, as they occurred to me in that moment…but know that I will be warding my journal from this moment on with spells such that few wizards will be able to break.

Why was it that Liralyn was always so careful to remind me that Zelairwyn was _not in the line of succession?  Why the necklace, if only to hide a few features of a gold elven child who could never truly be a threat?  Why was a guard necessary if he was unimportant?  Why illusions spells and polymorph both?  What exactly was it that Liralyn was hiding in Zelairwyn?  The answer…my best guess came to me then, and I knew it was something that I cannot reveal to Zelairwyn if it is true.  After all how would one tell a gold elf child that his mother has lied to him from birth and the necklace that protects him also hides his true heritage from him…the truth that Zelairwyn may well resemble his father, a prince of Evermeet, far more than is healthy…that who he believes himself to be might just be a lie…and most importantly that, if I am right, Zelairwyn Sunstar may well be, in fact, an heir to throne of Evermeet?  How could I tell him that at that moment, I suspected that he was as much a moon elf as I am? _

I couldn't.  I dared not.  For one, I have no proof, only suppositions.  For another, it is not my right…only his mother, or perhaps the Queen had that right, although if it is true, I think it is a terrible that they have done this to him…for his safety or otherwise.  It would be like my trapping Sera in an elven body and telling her that she is an elf, and not a dragon at all. Which is more important in such a situation, truth or safety?  I can't say that I know…although, to be fair, if Zelairwyn were my son and I knew his life to be in peril, I might well have done the same thing.  The only thing I knew at that moment, and at this, is that moon elf or gold elf, right or wrong, there was no easy solution to the problem.  The only thing I knew for certain was that Zelairwyn must be kept safe, either way.     

"…more like him that you know," I repeated, catching my thoughts as though he might peer into my skull and read them.  

"What does it matter?" Zelairwyn asked, sounding listless now, as his hysterics faded. 

"It matters," I forced him to look at me, to meet my eyes, that he might see I was serious. "Your father is gone, but he left you.  You carry him with you, in your blood.  He died young, but if his sole purpose in this world was to create you, then it would have been enough."

"Me?" Zelairwyn asked.  "There's nothing special about me…nothing except that I'm his son."  

"Every child is important to the people," I shook my head at him.  "Our numbers in this world are few, dwindling with each year.  Do not be so quick to judge yourself worthless.  You wished to know whom your father was, and why I was sent to protect you.  Now you know, for good or ill.  And since you know, then know that it was your grandmother, the Queen of Evermeet who sent me here."

"I don't even know her.  I've never even met," Zelairwyn stated.

"Some day you will.  For now, though, believe that she is a great woman, and she loves you, as does your mother.  I believe that they wanted to protect you by keeping this knowledge from you.  Try to look at it that way."  Truly, I don't know why I thought I could advise Zelairwyn.  I hardly have my own mind straight without trying to fix someone else.  But for the moment, I was the only one Zelairwyn had.  As Celedor did not turn away from me, despite the monumental task I had set before him, so I would not abandon Zelairwyn.

A thought dawned on Zelairwyn, and as he asked it, I was glad his mind was turning from the shock of what he'd learned that day.

" You're going to get in trouble for this, aren't you?  If I tell anyone that I know, that is."  I sat back against the wall, able to relax a bit now that the worst of the storm had passed, and nodded.

"Oh, most likely.  But don't fret.  I am always in trouble, for one thing or another.  It is nothing new to me," I informed him, keeping my tone light.  Though I was afraid I might lose the place I was beginning to have here, there was no way I meant to let him know that.

"I heard you were a trouble-maker," Zelairwyn commented, rubbing the last of his tears away with the edge of his shirtsleeve.  

"You certainly cause enough here…always attacking Rhylaun's father and then having Kellenes attack you," he added.  "Kalanas is really not a bad person," he went on.  I shrugged.

"He might not be," I said, though I doubted it greatly.  "But the fact of the matter is that an apple never falls far from its tree.  Once a drow, always a drow, I say."

"Kalanas' parents are followers of Eilistraee…so were their parents," Zelairwyn continued.  

"This is not a conversation you really want to have with me," I warned him.  "As far as I am concerned, Corellon cursed the drow and if Eilistraee and her people had been truly innocent they would be part of the Seldarine, even now."  Zelairwyn sighed, looking downcast once more.  In an attempt to distract him, I changed the subject back towards something I was slightly more comfortable talking about.

"And as for trouble, worry not.  I've gotten out of worse than this.  You couldn't even begin to imagine the havoc I have been known to wreak."

"Really?  Like what?" he asked, looking less unhappy.

So for the next few hours I regaled him with tales of the trouble I'd had gotten into on Evermeet, and how, more often than not, Sylthas and Tobias had had to save me from my folly before my parents found out.  He was laughing by the time evening fell, and in far better spirits when I added that he was excused from doing the report.

I waited for days for the explosion to occur, but it never came.  Every time I spoke with Liralyn, or even passed her in the hallways, I waited for the screaming…waited for the blade to fall.  But, as it turns out, Zelairwyn did not reveal that he knew the truth.  He appeared to return to his normal self once more.  At least outwardly, he did.  No one else seemed to notice anything wrong except for me.  At practice, he fairly burned with energy…I would call it anger, but I am not certain.  He handed in a report, along with the rest of my history students, on time, even though I had excused him.  It was titled "Xharlion Moonflower, alive or dead?" and the look he gave me as he handed it to me was one of defiance…as though he dared me to say any thing.  I didn't.  I graded the paper along with the rest, without comment.

Yet for all that he worked harder, pushed himself further in practice, he hasn't caused any major trouble for some time now.  It is as though he is beginning to weigh his options more carefully…to think more about taking risks.  In a matter of a few weeks, he had grown up a great deal, just that quickly.  I felt bad, for if I had been more cautious, he might, even now, still dream that his father might someday appear.  And I worried that he was trying so very hard to shoulder it all alone, for not once since that day in the classroom had he spoken to me on the subject.  I, for one, know what it is like trying to handle such a heavy burden alone…and I know that in the long run, it isn't healthy.

It appears I am not the only one, after all, to notice the change in Zelairwyn.  Sera, too, has sensed it, and asked me what was wrong with him.  It was odd that she should do so, for I assumed that she thought of Zelairwyn as a rival of sorts.  For the most part, Sera does not care for any challenges to my affection.  In that regard she has always made her feelings known…and on Evermeet she had, more than once, gone out of her way to make certain that no female who was not a blood relation stayed too close to me.  She has always been quite jealous in that regard.  But when she asked me if Zelairwyn was all right, I sensed concern on her part…not the interest of a dragon seeking out a weakness.  That startled me.  I replied that he was a bit upset over some things, but that I was sure he'd be fine.

I watched her closely for the next few days after that, and made quite a startling realization.  When Sera watched Zelairwyn and I practicing, she was not so much watching me, as she was Zelairwyn.  In fact, her eyes, peering over the edge of whatever book she appeared to be reading, scanned his every move.  It took me a while to recognize the expression in those silver eyes.  I had seen it before, in my sisters' gazes when Tobias entered a room.  That expression which had amused me in the eyes of my sister, terrified me in the face of my daughter.  Sera, it seemed, had developed her first girlish infatuation with a member of the opposite sex…who just so happened to be my charge, and an a youth who might or might not be an heir to the throne…which verily meant that I couldn't kill him if he suddenly noticed and decided, for some insane reason, to return said infatuation. Gods!  She is too young for this…and for that matter, so I am I!

As if my life isn't difficult enough!       


	14. Chapter 13

Hello once more.  Here is the next chapter.  I'm not certain that I am happy with it, which is why I have taken a while to post it.  That, and writer's bloack has been a bit of a problem lately.  Still, here it is anyhow, for good of for ill.  

On a second note, Crazefanficboi brought up a topic that I realize might be a bit confusing. For the character's ages, I am working off the Dungeons and Dragons Players Handbook, and Monster Manual. Keledrial, by the Handbook is just under elven majority, which means he's about 17 or 18 in human years. Sera is about 25 in the story, which, according to the Monster Manual, means she's a juvenile, which is about 9 or 10. Most of the little girls I know about that age think their "in love," or at least find boys cute, so I figured that Sera would too.  

Please note that I am not certain why dragons age faster than elves do, seeing as the former lives longer than the latter.  My theory would be that dragons are forced to grow up faster seeing as they live in a dangerous environment, and their aging slows down later.  Elves have more time, since they grow up in relatively "safe" environments.  The aging differences of the races is part of the reason why Keledrial has such problems, seeing as in Ruathym he was considered an adult and forced to act like one, when he was actually a child still, with a lot more growing to do. 

I would like to thank all of you have reviewed this story for me: Aquila, Arabwel, Catspaw0913, Crazefanficboi, and SilverWolf.  If it weren't for your interests and responses to the story, I probably would have given up on this long ago.  Thanks all and enjoy!  Azurielle   

A few months later, things were fairly calm.  No terrible thing had happened.  No more earth shattering revelations.  Zelairwyn is keeping his mind on his training and schooling, and thankfully, hardly seems to know that Sera is alive.  Sera, for her part, only does the eyelash fluttering and sighing and such…much as my sisters had done.  Nothing will come of it…not now anyhow.  For all the airs she's put on since coming here and interacting with other children, she's still only a little girl, only just 23 years of age…in human terms that's something like 10 years or so, I think.  And I've become certain that she is only fixated on Zelairwyn because he is around so often…much as Orianna and the twins fixated on Tobias because he was often around our house.  It will pass…or so Lyly and Tully and Magnar have all been quick to assure me…although how Magnar would know, seeing as for a dwarf, he's not all that old and has no children, is beyond me.  Why I ever thought to speak about my problem to any of them is beyond me…they just asked, and it sort of slipped out.  

Still, speaking with them, however, briefly, was almost pleasant.  I've been so busy trying to be a good teaching and dealing with all the problems that seem to continually erupt around me, that I hardly realized how much I miss my few friends.  It is only at times like this, when the night is still around me, and the only sounds are the forest's whisperings, the creaking of the house settling around me, and the faint breathing or Sanhadrian…who just had to fall asleep on my leg, which is now numb…that I notice…for it is only at times like this that I have time to feel.  

Sometimes it seems as though I am walking through life playing at a dreadful game of balance.  It is as though I walk a thin line over a dangerous pit.  In my one hand, I carry my responsibilities and my duties…in the other, my desires for freedom, my beliefs and convictions.  I must walk carefully and slowly, always being certain to try keep both hands in balance, for if one side should tip, I fear I would take a dangerous fall.  And I am trying so hard no to fall…not to fail.

Although, there are times when I am here that I very nearly feel at peace…not often, but occasionally.  And yet, this was certainly not what I had in mind when I was back on Evermeet, wanting to see the world.  Here I am just as trapped, still by duty, no less…but at least it is a duty that I accepted for myself.  Maybe that is what makes the difference.  

Yet, a part of me still wants to fly free of even this place, the one place where I might be accepted, despite my oddities.  I still want to travel, to see the world and the sights it has to offer…and I will.  I know that I will, but unfortunately, not yet.  When Sera is a little older, perhaps…and more capable of dealing without my constant presence…and when Zelairwyn is capable of protecting himself…then I think I will take leave of my duties, at last, and travel once more.  

Until then, however, I continue to try to make the best of things here…even if it appears I am still not doing such a wonderful job.  Oh, my students seem to like me well enough, but I have still yet to make any headway with most of the other teachers.  I suppose I am just anti-social…although Magnar prefers to use the word "shy."  It's such an annoying word really…insinuating that I am afraid to talk with them, to try to make them like me…especially when that is not it at all.  I don't _want_ to talk with them, that's all.  Why would I? They may be teachers, but that doesn't mean they're not foolish.  And there's no need for me to remind of which subject I feel they are foolish about.  Still, it is comforting to know that Kalanas goes out of his way to avoid me.  I guess he's finally learning that his little "I'm good act" won't make any headway with me.

On the bright side…if you can call it that, at least I am finally on speaking terms with my cousin again.  Honestly, she is being so stubborn about Zelairwyn just knowing who his father is, that I am certain I am right.  And the problem with that is that I still hardly know what to think about the whole situation.  We elves are very proud of our heritage, for the most part.  I can't imagine growing up thinking that I was a moon elf and then having my parents suddenly tell me that I was really a green elf or something…although it would explain my size, wouldn't it?  

All jesting aside, however, I think what Liralyn is doing is wrong…I just haven't come up with a clever way to deal with it.  I shall just have to think harder, I suppose.  

All in all, I have to say that I looking forward to the summer break coming up.  Maybe then I'll have some time to come up with a solution.  Maybe I'll even have a chance to take Sera to see Shadowdale or something…I've heard that several Chosen of the human goddess, Mystra, live there…a bard of some renown, and an old human wizard, I think.  Anyhow, the bards always seem to be singing about the place, so there must be something interesting to see.  

Well, I'll see, anyhow, when the time arrives.  I would have to make certain that Zelairwyn would be well protected if I decided to do such, after all.  But I'll worry about that later.  Think I'll take my reverie now…here's to counting the days until I no longer have to worry about Talath burning parts of himself in my smithing class!      

Just a day before the students were to leave for their homes for a few blessed weeks, and I had to end up getting in a fight.  It's not like it was even my fault…not really, anyhow.  

I was minding my own business, for once, when I happened upon Everall's resident drow and his son.  The boy was upset, asking some question about why one of his classmates had tripped him and made a comment about how drow shouldn't be at Everall because he was a drow.  Kalanas replied something to the effect of "some people are afraid of us because they do not understand us," and that "if we show them we are strong, and mean no harm by refraining from retaliation, even if we are wronged, we can show them we have as much right to be here and learn, as they do."

I didn't even say anything…although I confess I was thinking rather snide thoughts about the statement.  As much right to be here as the good races!  It's like saying the wolf has a right to be in the pen with sheep!  Ridiculous.  Still, in deference to my vow, and to the common belief shared by the majority of the school that even dark elves, the evilest of evil, had a right to prove they can change their ways, I said nothing…I merely snorted.  Honestly, I doubt Kalanas or his brat even knew I was there.  

Then I heard a voice from the shadow of the building I was passing.

"It's people like you that cause this sort of thing…you and your damned intolerant ways are rubbing off on the students, now," the voice muttered acidly.  I turned fractionally to catch sight of Kellenes out of the corner of my eye.  He was leaning up against the building, in a casual stance.  I should have realized it was not so casual as it appeared, though, for every muscle in his body was tensed…his blue eyes flashing angrily.

"No matter how hard he tries, you refuse to even consider the possibility that my brother means no harm, do you Nightstar?"

"If the kettle is black, there's no sense in calling it white," I replied, turning away from him, feeling smug.

"It's people like you that make this world so intolerable to live in," Kellenes stated.  

"You're words mean nothing to me," I told him, throwing the words over my shoulder.  "You would think the same as I if you had not been stolen by the drow and grown up thinking that you were "brothers" with one of them.  If you'd been raised properly, you'd think the same as I do."

"I am nothing like you!" Kellenes hissed.  I turned fractionally, realizing that perhaps I should not have made that last comment.  But my mouth has ever had a tendency to run away with me.  All right…so perhaps I did sort of have a hand in starting the fight.  But he spoke first, damn it!

There was a scrape of metal on metal as he whipped his blades from their scabbards and charged. 

"The world would be better off if it weren't for Cyric-hearted bastards like you!" he shouted, diving at me in a second.  I turned in time to avoid the initial lunge that would have sent the tips of his swords into my back, killing me.  Instead, I caught the edges of the blades, slicing open the skin of my back, and upper arm.  And they say I have a bad temper!  

I turned to keep him at my front and backed up quickly.  Oh, don't get me wrong, I wanted to fight the little bastard.  I intended to, as I snapped my own weapon into my hands.  I just wanted to make certain that we would be on equal ground as I did…maybe even give him a chance to cool down and realize the folly of this course of action.  After all, this was the last sort of trouble I needed…especially seeing as I knew everyone would think I started it.

"You really don't want to do this, Kellenes," I warned him, parrying his right sword, and ducking to avoid a neck shot with his left, the clash of blades loud in the afternoon stillness.

"Yes I do," he snapped.  "My brother may have the skin of a dark elf, but by Eilistraee it's your heart that's black!"  That was it!  How dare he insinuate that I…!  With a roar, I attacked, cutting downwards.  He deflected the attack with one of his swords, but my greater strength blasted past the defense of his left arm, slashing into his shoulder. He dropped the weapon with a grunt, admirably hiding the pain.  Foolishly, I assumed he was through, and I lowered my guard for a fraction of a second.  He swung at my legs, piercing my upper left thigh.  Seeing as I was not in a rage, I felt it…and it hurt.  A lot.  Dropping my sword to the ground in a moment of intelligence on my part, I grabbed his sword, and flung it away as well.  I knew that if I had kept my weapon in my hands an instant longer I would rage, and kill him.  As much as that would have given me satisfaction, I would not have it so.  After all, he could hardly help himself for being a fool.  Besides, if I killed him I would be out of Everall faster than I could say "exile."  I was not about to let the idiot force me to that.

Rather than cutting him down, I curled my hand into a fist, and putting all my weight behind the swing, I slammed my fist into his gut.  He gasped loudly for air, doubling over for a moment, yet he recovered fast, and returned with a punch of his own, this one connected with my eye, as I clapped a hand over the wound in my leg.  

Now so angry I could feel the haze of rage edging in on my vision, I tackled him to the ground, and began to pummel the hells out of him.  Like a cat, he fought back, twisting and turning, scoring nearly as many hits on me.  

Suddenly, we were jerked apart, hands grabbing at our arms, around our waists. 

"Stop it!"  shouted Kalanas Dakarios as he tried to hold his furious "brother" back.

"Knock it off, Keledrial, "added Bran, all but shouting in my ear as he wrenched my arms back.

"He started it!" I growled.

"Let me go!  He deserves to die!" Kellenes screamed back at his brother, struggling still.

"No he doesn't…people are entitled to their opinions," Kalanas protested, leaning back, using all his weight to hold Kellenes back.

       "Let him go…I'll show the coward what happens to people who attack from behind!" I called out.

       "Shut up you miserable barbarian!" Kellenes shouted.  "You're nothing but a freak! Practically a Half-elf!"

       "Better that than a traitor to my own race!"  taunted, even thought his statement had cut deeply.  

       "Stop it, both of you!" Kalanas said, once more, almost pleading.  I have to hand it to him...he seemed sincerely upset about what was going on.  Good actor...perhaps he should have been a bard.  At that point, Harl showed up and put an end to the conflict with that aura of command that paladins seem to exude.

       "That's enough, both of you! You're elves, for Torm's sake, not children! It doesn't matter who started this, because as of now, it is finished!"  It was like being yelled at by one's father.  At the same time, I felt foolish, and yet wanted to rebel.  But, seeing as I hadn't really wanted to fight in the first place, I decided that I would follow the command…especially when I noticed that wide-eyed crowd of students that had gathered to see what was happening.

       As I forced my muscles to relax, and my breathing to calm, Bran released me sensing that I was through fighting.  The pain of the wound in my leg nearly caused it to go out from under me, but I gritted my teeth, and forced myself to stay upright.

       "You try something like that again, and I swear it'll be the last time," I warned Kellenes.  He merely narrows his eyes, and gave in to his brother's insistence as Kalanas led him away.

"That was really stupid, Keledrial," Bran told me with a shake of me head, as he gripped my arm to steady me.

"What the hells was I supposed to do?  Let him kill me?" I asked, incredulously.

"You might have tried not provoking him," Bran said, as he guided me towards the clerics' area.  Behind us, Harl was making the crowd of students leave, telling them some fabrication about how Kellenes and I had been merely "sparring" and had an accident.  I can't imagine that any of the students were dumb enough to believe the lie, but as I said, Harl has such an aura of command that they cleared out anyhow.

      The only cleric around at the time was Sharanne… the human priestess of Chauntea.  She was so disgusted upon hearing about how the wounds occurred "fighting like children, on school grounds, no less" I believe she said, that she refused to fully heal my wounds.  She only did enough to stop the bleeding and make certain that there would be no permanent damage. The rest could heal on its own, that I might better consider my actions the next time, she added.  It didn't even matter to her that I hadn't started the fight…only that I should have stopped it without violence somehow.  Damned farmers!

At least I found out that she was no nicer to Kellenes…the little shit.  I hope his wounds are hurting him worse than mine.  Although considering he did me more damage with his weapons, and my wounds are throbbing like a dwarf is hammering away at them from the inside, I doubt it.

Needless to say, once patched up Liralyn stopped by to give me a lecture on inappropriate behavior for teachers, and what it constituted. Further, she added that I had traumatized students, and behaved irresponsibly.  I heard it all even though I paid little attention.  So I had provoked Kellenes a little.  If he hadn't had such a terrible temper, this never would've happened.  He attacked me, damn it!  From behind no less!  It isn't fair that I'm getting in trouble for this!  But try telling that to anyone else.  As far as they're concerned I'm just as at fault as Kellenes!  

So much for going to Shadowdale.  Two days after the fight, and my wounds were as painful as ever.  There was no way I would be able to ride Lashrael in such a condition.  Needless to say that Sera is upset, for she'd been looking forward to the trip.  She's been sniffling and pouting all day, and driving me crazy.  I finally convinced her to bring a message to Zelairwyn for me, informing him that we would not be practicing his swordplay for several days at least.  I'm certain that the boy already knows that, but it would at least get her out of my hair for a while.

So I'm stuck here, waiting for my wounds to heal all because Kellenes Dakarios chose that moment to throw a temper tantrum.

At least its pretty quiet with so many of the students gone.  Those still here either have no home to go to, or their home is too far away.  I gather a few of the teachers volunteered to do special outings and the classes for the kids.  I'll have to find out exactly what has been scheduled, and see if I can't convince Sera to join in.  I love my daughter more than my own life, but I swear if she's going to mope for the next month over not being able to take the trip I promised, I may have resort to dire tactics.    

My leg has finally healed enough to walk on, although it is still with a bit of pain that I do so.

On a more interesting note Tobias arrived at the school a few evenings ago, to say hello and drop off a few things: some messages and letters from my parents… and the new abjuration teacher, who had come from Evermeet.  

I had a chat with him for a while, catching up on all manner of things.  He said he meant to go wandering again, and I asked him if he meant to go near Evereska, or back to the mountains near Waterdeep.  When he shrugged and stated he could head in those directions if I wanted, I asked if he might do so, for I had some inquires to be made in both places.  In Everska I wished him to find out about Zelairwyn's missing friends, as I had so long ago promised to do, but been unable to, until now.  I gave him the list of names that Zelairwyn had given me.  

Further, I wanted him to check up on the messages I had sent to people in Waterdeep, regarding the names of Sera's birth parents.  I'd heard nothing back yet, and wondered if the messages had got where they needed to, or whether the people had even looked into what I had asked about.  The truth is, though, that I have been rather glad no word has come.  I fear to know anything for certain, for then it will be something I must tell Sera.  I fear losing her…yet at the same time, it is only right that I should do everything within my power to see that she at least learns their names.  

Tobias accepted both "mission" and stated that he would see what he could do, and send word as soon as he had word to send.  I thanked him, grateful that he tried so hard to become my friend, for now I valued him as one of my only friends.    

Shortly after Tobias left, Sera, thankfully, ceased her pouting.  Apparently seeing Tobias again was enough to placate her, as well as the fact that she learned one of her friends stayed behind. Sera has more or less taken to doing exactly what her friend…a dwarf girl called Rina, I think, does.  

Also, the new abjuration teacher…whom I have yet to meet, has some summer class set up that will run through the next few weeks, even though she's only been at the school for a few days. 

Sera is waiting ecstatically for it to start.  I honestly don't know why she likes abjuration magic so much, though.  Protection spells are all well and good, but Evocation and explosions are much more fun.

I don't have to worry about Zelairwyn for the moment wither, seeing as he hasn't been causing trouble.  He's been keeping busy practicing alone, and spending a lot of time at the archery range.  I think he's got Rogan, the archery teacher helping him out…which is good, seeing as I'm not all that skilled in bows, even after my training on Evermeet.  I don't know…a sword or an axe just feels better in my hands than a bow.

Seeing as riding and anything truly strenuous is out for another few weeks or so, I think I might do a bit of research and pick up a few new spells.  Maybe I'll do a bit of enchanting…after all I've got plenty of weapons to work on…maybe a simple magic enchantment on the students' completed items, as a reward for putting up with my fumbling teaching for the past year… I might even do a bit of fishing or something.  Who knows…at least I'll get to relax a bit…whether I like it, or not.

Now, when I decided to head down to the stream, a few miles from the school, to relax for a bit, I had merely intended to fish a bit.  Yes, me, fishing.  I know it seems boring, but it is rather relaxing, especially if one does not concern them self with actually attempting to catch something.  Besides, I am not completely incompetent when it comes to the sport…I did spend all of my formative years live on one island or another.  And, having little better to do with all the students gone, it seemed a good enough idea.

So I grabbed a line, and a hook, rounded up some food from the school's kitchen, and headed out, leaving a message for Sera, in case she came looking for me, though she is supposed to busy at the abjuration class all day.

It was a fine day, not too hot or cold, bright and clear, with patches of sunlight filtered through the heavy canopy of the forest.  Sanhandrian was in his element, leaping from my shoulder, and into the trees, chittering wildly, and jumping from branch to branch, chasing a pretty lady squirrel.  My wounds from the fight were all but healed, and I was feeling pretty good for once.

I found a nice spot, up on the grassy bank of the stream, and stretched out.  

Most of the morning passed, as I slipped in and out of reverie.  Even despite my lack of trying, I caught several trout, which I fully intended to give over to the school cooks to fry up later.

The last thing I expected was to hear the scream of a child shatter the afternoon stillness.

I was on my feet in an instant when I heard the scream, looking about, my pleasant lethargy gone.  I didn't have to look long.  Following in the direction of the shout, which was quickly followed by another shrill cry, I bolted downstream tearing through the underbrush.  

"Somebody help!" the child screamed, and I could tell from the tone that whomever it was, was terrified.  I finally got free of the forest as a clearing, alongside the stream, opened up.  

I saw the creature first.  It rose before me, nearly 9 feet in height. It stood upright; it's lower half like that of a bear.  It supper half, however, was like a giant owl, its wings ending in sharp claws.  I took in the entire scene in an instant, time seeming to slow as it always did when it was time for battle.  On the far side of the stream, barely hidden by underbrush was a shallow cave; the creature's lair, I guessed.  

The creature, I knew from tales I had heard, was an owlbear.  The evil creatures' origin was unknown, but it was known that an owlbear could ferociously kill entire families, all to sate its ravenous hunger.  Lying on the ground, near the owlbear's feet was a child…or, more specifically, a child I was familiar with.

Rhylaun Sunstar, the son of my cousin Liralyn and Kalanas Dakarios…the drow, lay there.  Not even two decades in age yet, he seemed incredibly small and helpless. The sight of him stunned me for a moment. 

The boy tried to crawl away from his attacker, but seemed to have hurt his ankle, and could not run.  The owlbear grabbed for him, and the child screamed, a high-pitched wail of pain as the creature's claws raked the skin of his leg.  The owlbear moved in for the kill, roaring loudly…madness gleaming in its red-rimmed eyes.  From the far edge of the clearing, over a hundred yards away, I saw people burst through the tree line…other children, who stopped to stare in horrified fascination…and adults, teachers from the school.  I saw Kalanas…and his "brother", Kellenes.  In less time than it took for my heart to beat, I saw Kalanas' face twist in terror, knowing that his son was about to die while he watched…knowing that he was too far away to stop the owlbear.  I heard Kalanas scream in rage.  And in that moment, he was not a drow to me…not someone to be hated…in that moment, all I saw was a father, like myself, who wanted nothing more than to protect his child from harm…and Rhylaun was only a child who was afraid.  And I was the only one close enough to do anything about it.  

I knew that if the position was reversed…if it was Sera in danger, there was nothing I would care about, save that she was saved.  So as a father, I did the only thing I could do, enemy or not.

I snapped my fingers, and my great sword was in my hands.  I ran forward, barely noticing the twinge of pain from my leg, as I slammed my shoulder into the owlbear.  Though I am strong, I hardly moved the creature more than a few inches…in truth my attack had done little but gain its attention…which was exactly as I had intended.  For the moment it was distracted I reached down and grabbed Rhylaun from the ground, setting him on his feet.  He nearly fell again; the pain of his injuries must have been great…but he stood, his tear-filled silver eyes meeting mine in a split-second.  

"Run!" I shouted at him, pushing him away.  I did not have time to see if he would obey me, as the owlbear's razor-like claws tore into the flesh of my back, cutting down to bone.

I turned back to it, ignoring the burning pain…I'd been wounded worse.  It roared at me, its breath was foul, and rotten smelling.  I roared back, and attacked.  My first swing went wide, as the owlbear swung its wing up, and deflected the blade, slashing once more, this time across my side.  I cursed myself as a fool for leaving myself open and attacked again, feeling energy surge into my arms, as the battle rage fell upon me.  Greater strength and awareness surged through me, as the pain fell away.

I drove the beast backwards, back towards the stream, scoring hit upon hit.  I knew that my wounds were bleeding… profusely, but in the near-oblivion of the rage, I did not feel so much as a twinge.  It slashed me only once more before it fell to my sword.  

I came out of the battle rage feeling weary, as usual, my wounds burning.  A quick check revealed that my tunic was soaked through with blood, dripping down onto my pants.  I glanced around, to see the body of the owlbear I had been fighting…hacked to a nearly unrecognizable state.  Not far from that, was another owlbear…the female to the male I had killed.  It, too, was dead, although scorch marks, and the bloody lines of blades smaller than my own, had felled it.  

Strange that there had been owlbears so close to the school, and no one had known about them…especially since most of the owlbears in the forest of Cormanthyr had been long ago killed by the elves.  Still, there have always been stories of rare, ancient owlbears, sleeping and hidden…I hardly knew whether to believe the truth of such tales, but what I did know, judging by the sheer size of the two that had been felled, was that these owlbears were far from the average ones encountered elsewhere in Faerun.

I pulled my hair away from my face, and tucked it behind my ears, and continued looking around.  I saw Kellenes, and another teacher, the human ranger, Grim, near the other owlbear…blood staining their blades.  They, no doubt, had aided in the killing of the female owlbear.  The children were at the far end of the clearing, still staring wide-eyed, ad whispering among themselves.  Vaguely, I recalled something about a group of students taking a field trip into the forest today…something about plant identification.  

The druid who taught at the school, an elven woman named Starya, was ministering aid to Rhylaun.  The dark elven boy's face was still wet with tears, but he was doing his best not to cry more as the druid bound his wounds, packing them with herbs and whispering healing chants.  Standing before the boy and the woman, almost like a shield, was Kalanas.  The drow wizard had obviously been casting, for I could sense the fading tingle of magic in the air around him.  He turned to face me, his expressions unreadable.

I snapped my fingers, sending my sword back into the glove of storing, and rose to my feet, one hand pressed against my side, in a vain attempt to staunch the blood flow.  And then it occurred to me, just what I'd done…I'd saved the life of a drow.  

I couldn't help feeling confused by my own actions.  After all, the deed had seemed so obvious at the time…but after… Rhylaun was just a child, true…and one from whom I'd never sensed evil…and yet, he was still a drow.  And I had saved his life, and in doing so allowed one of the sworn enemies of the people to live, child or not.  But for all that, as I looked at him, I could feel no regret over what I'd done.  

And I started to think…perhaps…just maybe, a drow was not born evil…perhaps it was something they were taught.  Therefore, it stood to reason, that a drow child, raised by good people might be good.  After all, if an elven child who lived among humans could become a berserker…could learn to do things completely against his nature…then why not a drow?  And in that one moment, my entire way of thinking things…my nice, ordered set of beliefs shifted…shifted and changed to the point that I hardly feel certain of anything.  

All I know is that Kalanas had never attacked me, or even spoken ill of me…even when I had done both to him.  He withstood my taunts with a control I almost envied.  And for all my words to the contrary, I could not think of one evil deed he'd done, indeed he'd even tried to stop his brother from trying to kill me.  

And his son reminded me of any other child…he played, he laughed, and he learned just like all of the other children…but I had let my beliefs stain my judgment of him.  I hadn't bothered to try to find out if they were good people…even though, I had to assume that my cousin and her friends would never had allowed him in the school if they thought that Kalanas meant any harm.  I had only seen "drow."  

After all that has happened, and all Lita told me about the very same subject, you would think that I would have learned by now that a person is not just their race, nor do all people fall into racial stereotypes.  After all, if the elven woman who'd been with the Zhentarim at Goldenfields could be evil of her own volition, then why could Kalanas and his son not be good?  

It is something I have been pondering since the attack, and still, I have not come up with any answer that satisfies me, save that perhaps, once again, I have been too quick to judge.  I can hardly believe that I am thinking such a thing…that a drow could possibly be good, but well, there it is.

So, anyhow, I stood in the clearing, bleeding, feeling tired, and more than a little confused at my actions, when Kalanas approached.  He seemed a little wary and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kellenes tense, sword tips rising fractionally…in case I should attack, I suppose.

"I don't know why you did it, but you saved my son, Keledrial…and for that I owe you a great debt," Kalanas stated.  I shrugged.  

"I could not stand by and let a child…any child, suffer.  Besides…I am a father, too.  If my daughter was in the same situation, I would want to know that someone would be there to save her."  Kalanas nodded, solemnly, and held his hand out to me.  For a long moment I stared at the proffered limb…the skin covering it as black as mine is pale.  An hour before then, I would have sneered and turned away.  Two years ago, I would have suspected treachery, and attacked before I could be attacked.  But now…in the span of a few moments of time, everything had changed…turned my nice, ordered way of thinking upside down.  And so I did something that was very out of character for me.  

I accepted his hand, and clasped it, as one warrior would to another.  And for that moment he and I, drow elf and moon elf, were no different.  

Needless to say, while we we're now at a truce, I could not entirely erase an attitude built of a century to vanish in one day.  So while I no longer felt the urge to attack him, neither am I his best friend either.

He released my hand, and glanced at the blood…my blood that was now smeared on his own palm.

"Come, Nightstar.  Let us return to the school, that you might get your wounds properly cared for," he stated.  I shook my head, stubbornly…I don't know whether blood loss had impaired my judgment at that point, or whether my own perverse nature forced me to disagree with the dark elf out of hand.

"I must go get my things," I declared.  He gave me an incredulous look.

"You're bleeding to death!  Your things will keep."  I shook my head again.  

"I spent all afternoon catching those fish, and by Corellon I mean to have fish for dinner!" I stated, stubbornly.  

"You are behaving like a child," Kalanas crossed his arms over his chest.

"And you are a drow!" was my witty reply.  About then things started to get fuzzy.  I gather that my wounds were a little worse than I had thought. I vaguely recall deciding that sitting on the ground seemed a much better idea than attempting to stand any longer.  I heard Grim laugh, and say that he would go fetch the damned fish.  

Somehow, I got back to the keep, although I cannot exactly recall how I managed it…sheer force of will I suppose.  I woke up in the clerics' building, a short time later.  The worst of my wounds has been healed, magically…now only new, itching, scars across my back and side proved that the battle had happened. I had just managed to sit up, when I was nearly deafened by a girlish shriek.  

"Daddy!" Sera cried, as she hurled herself at me.  

"What?" I asked, worriedly.  "Are you all right?  Is something wrong?"  She shook her head, her small arms wrapped as far around my chest as they could go.  

"Then what?" I demanded.  She sat back, and looked up at me.

"Don't ever scare me like that!" she said, tearfully.  "Remember you promised you wouldn't do that again…remember on Evermeet, when you fell asleep?  You promised!"  She meant the time that I had been unconscious for several months after reforging the Fury of Battle.  I find that I am constantly amazed by the detail of her memory…but then again, perhaps I should not be.  She is, after all, a dragon…and dragons are said to have memories even longer than elves.

"Yes, I remember Sera.  I did not mean to frighten you on purpose.  And I certainly did not intend to get hurt…but sometimes things happen that are beyond our control.  You understand that, don't you Sera?"  She slowly nodded.  

"Well…you should be more careful next time.  I don't want anything to happen to you."  I smoothed her hair out of her face, feeling somewhat upset to see that her silver eyes were red from crying.  

"Do not worry, Sera.  I will be fine, and I will always be here for you."  She smiled, and hugged me again.  And once more, I thought to myself, this was the reason I had rescued Rhylaun Dakarios…I could not bear to inflict upon any father, what Sera's loss would inflict upon me.

Once Sera was reassured that I was fine, having suffered no lasting harm from my encounter with the owlbear, she proceeded to chatter on at me, as usual.  She told me how everyone was talking about how I had saved the drow boy, and how she was so proud that I was a "hero," her words, not mine.  She further went on to inform me that she'd finally met the new teacher at the school.  She added that the woman was an elf, from Evermeet and further added that the new teacher was "very nice," and that Sera thought I should meet her.   

I instantly recognized the look of …sneakiness that entered Sera's eyes…it was an expression she had learned, long ago, from Lita.  

My sweet little Sera was up to something…and I had a fairly good idea what it was.

From the very start of our time at the school, Sera quickly made friends…and there was one thing that many of her friends have, that she doesn't.  Naturally, it is something that money cannot buy, or else she would already have it, spoiled darling that she is.  And I know that when it comes to a great many things, I am nearly as dense as a dwarf's skullcap, but I am not a complete idiot either.  

Sera wants a mother.

Now, obviously this is something she feels only I can give her.  And my girl is no fool…she seems to know exactly what she wants…and has been trying her very best to make it happen.  

Now, since coming here, my choices in…partnerships have been very limited.  There are plenty of elven women here…but, well, as I've said, Sera has been busy. The few I have talked with seemed friendly enough at first, but each time it seemed that one of them was about to take things any further, they suddenly had an about-face in the relationship…usually becoming friendly, but distant.  I am nigh onto positive that Sera is behind this somehow, but I have not been able to discern how, as no one is talking.

My suspicions have been further compounded by Sera's more overt actions.  They are fairly easy to see through, but I have not yet let on to her that I am onto her tricks.  First, she will bring up the name of an elven woman she "met," usually a teacher, or one of the few, older students.  Then she will go on and on about how "nice" this woman is.  Finally, she will try to come up with a way to introduce the woman to me.  It took two of these encounters before I managed to catch on…and two more since that time.  Sera hasn't changed her tactics in anyway…I guess she assumes that I will have to eventually choose one of them.

Now, I love Sera more than my own life, and would do just about anything for her. I would love to be able to give her exactly what she wants, but the problem with this is simple: I do not want to get married…not now, and maybe not ever.  I certainly don't want a wife…and if I did, I already have one lined up…my betrothed. And in the latter case, I can only hope that if I stay away from Evermeet long enough, she and her family will marry her off to someone else, freeing me.  Loreleiana Moonflower is not the type who would make a good mother for Sera, anyhow.  

So that is my current problem…one of many I might add.  And one that has no happy resolution to it.  I will not wed my betrothed, or any other woman, if I can help it.  So Sera will just have to be satisfied with having only a father.  Besides, if she needs to ask about "girl" things, she can always write to Lita, or my mother.

I was allowed to leave the cleric's building early the next morning, but only after they'd extracted a promise from me…no strenuous activities for a ten-day.  Great!  Another week of being forced to sit around, not getting anything accomplished.  I swear, it seems my fate is to spend the entire vacation laid up with some wound or another. 

  The wounds were magically healed, they said, but not everything was fully healed.  I realized that as soon as I walked out, feeling the dull pain of bruises…the magical healing had only gone to heal the life threatening wounds…not the more insignificant ones.  I still don't see why a few bruises are reason enough for me to have to "take it easy."  I had meant to do some work at the forge in a day or two, but was told that if I attempted to, I would be drugged into submission.  Like a few bruises bothers me!  But no matter how I tried to explain that I was fine, no one would listen.  Even my appeals to my cousin were summarily dismissed.  Liralyn claimed that she never argues with the clerics' decisions…it would be like arguing with the gods, she said…and who were mortals to argue with the gods?

Needless to say that Magnar and Tully immediately began making cracks about my "frail constitution," and going on about how, I, being such a delicate thing, should have known better that to fight an owlbear single-handedly.  Normally, I might have taken offense at their remarks, but I sensed an underlying current of respect, and more than that…pride, beneath their words.

They had been angry after hearing about the fight I had with Kellenes, and they let me know it.  I knew that neither of them would actually say such sentiments aloud…but all the same…they let me know in their own ways that they were proud I had finally taken the first step towards learning what the Everall school stood for: acceptance.

So with, all the extra time on my hands, seeing as I had nothing really to do, and fishing was definitely out, I decided to take a good look around…resolved to try to meet more of the people that lived and a worked in and around the school.  

I quickly realized that, in my year of being here, I had continued my usual way of isolating myself…and I hardly knew more about my fellow teachers than their names. Forcing my usually standoffishness aside, I sat with some of the other instructors at lunch…relaxing in the private room for our use only, instead of hiding away in the forge.  I was amazed to see just how many teachers there were at the school, even considering many were away for the break.

  There are nearly 7 for magic alone…I recognized the ones I met on my first day here, but few of the others.  Many of the teachers taught more than one subject…like Magnar and Tully, both of who assisted with training fighters, as well as smithing…Magnar also taught dwarven history, as well.  The thing is, after talking to so many of the teachers, I finally am beginning to get a feel for what this place is all about.  All of the teachers were asked to teach…and probably could make a lot more coin if they applied their skills elsewhere…the point is that this where they **want** to be…and that teaching the children and young adults who come to the school to learn to work together is something they put great value in.  I can't help thinking that if we had all attended someplace like this in our youths, perhaps the adventuring group I had been in might have learned to work together better. 


	15. Chapter 14

This story is mine, begun in the year 2002, and is currently unfinished  as of May 2003.  Not all of the characters are mine, for example, Elaith Craulnober, Jander Sunstar, Brian, Laeral, etc.  Those characters belong to Wizards of the Coast, and the writers of the forgotten Realms novels in which they appear.  The original characters, like Keledrial, Ranon, Hank, Calvin, Tobias, Lita, Sera, Rosealliele, Liralyn, etc. are mine, however, and are not to be used without my permission.  Some of the plots may seem familiar, as they were based on adventures published in the Dragon magazines, and dungeons and Dragons material put out by Wizards of the Coast.  The rest of the plots are mine.  This story was written for purely entertainment purposes and not to make any money. Just thought I'd repost the warning, seeing as I haven't since chapter 1!

            **Note**: some of you may recognize the name and some of the story used for Jander Sunstar.  The base for this story was borrowed from Christie Golden's story, The Quiet Place, in the Realms of Magic novel.  I have changed the story a bit, thus making it somewhat of an alternate universe kind of thing, by adding the presence of Astianna.  Understand that I hold Christie Golden's character and story in high regard, hence the reason I borrowed from it.  Jander Sunstar belongs to her, and not me, but the rest of the people involved are my original characters.

            **To my readers**, Arabwel, Aquila, Catspaw0913, Crazefanficboi, Raelli, and Silverwolf, **thank you! **for reading and reviewing.  As long as you continue to enjoy, I will strive to finish this story. Also, to any interested, I have a character sketch of Keledrial completed.  If any of you would like for me to attempt to e-mail you a copy, which should be viewable in the windows paint program, just email me. It's not great work, but I've been told it's not terrible either.  Enjoy the next chapter of this sad affair. Azurielle

"Sera's "Something" turned out to be the new abjuration teacher…a young elven woman by the name of Rosealliele Silverspear.  My daughter made her move a few days before the students were set to return from their break.

She was clever, asking if a friend of hers could come to dinner at our apartments that night.  She made certain that I was occupied when she asked so that I would not see her face as she asked…not notice the sneaky expression that must have been lurking there.  Absently, I told her that it was fine.  She thanked me profusely, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and skipped off merrily.  

In retrospect, I should have realized that something was up.

However, I was quite oblivious until dinner time rolled around, and Sera arrived with her "friend" in tow.

Sera's guest was none other than the abjuration teacher that Liralyn had hired.  Tobias had spoken a little of her when he dropped her ff at the school, but I had been more interested in other conversation at the time.

Rosealliele Silverspear was clothed casually, wearing a dress that I recognized in style as having come from Evermeet.  My first impression of her was that she was somewhat common looking.  She had long black hair, nearly to her waist in length.  Her eyes were a dark color that I couldn't quite make out without appearing to stare.  I assumed they were the usually dark blue that is common among moon elves.  Her features seemed…average.  Oh, don't get me wrong, she was pleasant enough looking…after all, I would be hard pressed to find a moon elven woman of my own age that I did not find attractive.  It was just that, at first, there was nothing about her that really jumped out at me, demanding that I take notice.

That is until Sera, doing her best to be a polite little hostess (a clever little schemer!), introduced us.  

"Daddy, this is Lady Rosealliele Silverspear, of House Silverspear of Evermeet," she said to me.  

"Lady Rose, this is my Daddy, Lord Keledrial Nightstar, heir of house Nightstar of Evermeet," she stated to the etriel before turning back to me, beaming over how well she'd done with the introductions.  I had to admit she sounded very proper…rather like my mother, I should say.

Dredging out my court manners, I took the etriel's hand in my own, and bowed over it, trying to recall if I had met her before.  When I straightened up, I caught a clear view of her eyes.  I was surprised to see that they were not blue, as I had assumed, but a most clear and perfect shade of amethyst.  More importantly, though, those lovely eyes were full of anger…directed at me.  I hid my confusion, wondering just why a women I did not even know would have cause to look at me like that.  A moment later, the expression was gone and I wondered if I had imagined it.  

"Greetings, etriel," I spoke to her. "I apologize that we have not met before this."

"It is nothing, quessir," she replied, sounding graciously.  "I'm sure you have had much to occupy your time."  Perhaps I was hearing things, but I was almost certain there was a tinge of sarcasm to her tone, though her voice was sweet and melodic, accented with the speech of Evermeet.

"I did not know that you were the friend of which my daughter meant.  I assumed our guest this evening would be one of the students," I shot Sera a look stating that I did not appreciate her trickery.  The little darling didn't even have the decency to look abashed.

"Well I am no student, for certain, but it is certainly my hope that Kaithseraly and I shall become friends.  Both you and she are quite well known on Evermeet, and I certainly never thought I would be one of her teachers," the etriel stated serenely.

"Sera," my daughter corrected, as we moved to the small dining area that was in our apartments, for when neither Sera or I wished to join the mob that lived in the Sunstar house with us.  

"I like to be called Sera better," my girl explained.  

"Sera, then," Lady Silverspear replied with a dazzling smile.  That smile lit up her face and turned plain features stunning.  I couldn't help being struck by her.  She was quite lovely, I had to admit, realizing that perhaps I'd been mistaken in my first impression of her.  I hid my sudden attraction, though.  The last thing I wished was for Sera to think that her little ploy was working.  After all, I may be attracted to the pretty new abjuration teacher, but that doesn't mean I want to wed her.  Bed her, perhaps…

The dining area had already been set with food, that one of cooks had helped me bring up.  Seeing as I had assumed that it would be one of Sera's young friends joining us, I had invited Bran to join us.  The northman had agreed, claiming that he never turned down a free meal.  I had figured at least that way I would have someone to talk to throughout the meal that was at least close to my own mental level.  Strangely though, a note arrived mere moments after Lady Silverspear. The note was from Bran, stating that he couldn't make it after all, and perhaps another time.  I smelled Sera's meddling all over it. One of these days I am going to have to explain to her that she can't keep doing things like this.

Dinner went smoothly enough.  No disasters or anything. Rosealliele, as she insisted we call her, spoke about Evermeet a bit, and of how excited she was to have been accepted to teach here.  I found out that she had been one of my neighbors on Evermeet, and that she was the granddaughter of Lady Tyllaetha Silverspear, the current matriarch of the family.  And while I cannot ever recall having met Rosealliele, which is not surprising considering she stated that she did not attend court often, I do remember her grandmother quite clearly.

Even as a child Lady Tyllaetha both fascinated and frightened me.  Well over 600 years old, the woman was a warrior and a wizard with a history of questing and violent adventuring.  Having been in the Silverspear house once or twice, I vividly recall the woman's study…a place where the heads of evil creatures she had slain hung on her wall…including that of a pit fiend.  She had a strength of personality that left me cowering when I was a child, and she could even make my parents seem young and inexperienced.  

The past few times I had met her, though, she seemed almost as fascinated by me as I had been of her.  She had questioned me on several occasions about my ability to berserk, though I doubt my answers had satisfied her.  In truth she wanted to know how I accomplished it, and I was uncertain how to explain that I could simply summon the anger and energy with my will alone.

Looking at Rosealliele, though, I saw little of her grandmother in her.  In fact I had a hard time believing that Rosealliele, like myself, was in line for her family's moonblade.  I wondered if she even knew how to wield a sword…but assumed that she must be able to, as all potential heirs to a moonblade are taught the wielding of one long before they inherit it.

Once dinner was though, and we were better able to converse, Rosealliele turned the topic towards myself.  She asked how it was that someone like me managed to get a position as teacher.  There was an edge in her tone that suggested she did not necessarily agree with such an appointment.

Perhaps it was because of that undertone I sensed that I did not entirely tell the truth.  What I did tell her was that this was a place the Queen had recommended I go, and that Liralyn had seen fit to offer me the job.  It was not quite a lie, but for some reason, I didn't want her know that Liralyn had been all but ordered to have me here.

The truth of the matter, however, was as the evening came to a close, I'd realized two things.  One was that I had a definite attraction for Rosealliele Silverspear, and two, that she has some sort of…disapproval, for lack of a better word, against me. And seeing as I do not recall having met her before, I can only think it is because she heard about the fight.

She left perhaps two hours after the meal had ended.  The very moment the door closed behind her, Sera began grilling me.

"So, did you like her, Daddy?" she asked, trying unsuccessfully to hide a hopeful expression.

"Yes, Sera," I sighed, mentally shaking my head at my daughter's scheming.  "She was very nice."

"Didn't you think she was pretty, though?" Sera pressed. 

"Quite lovely," I responded. 

"So can we invite her to dinner again?" She wanted to know.  I saw exactly what she was trying to do.  It was at the tip of my tongue to refuse, to chastise her for tricking me into thinking her guest was one of her friends…but at the last moments I held my words.  For some reason…probably my year of celibacy, I wanted to know more about Lady Silverspear.  The best way to do that was have opportunity to see and speak with her again…something that would not happen otherwise, seeing as we teach two very different subjects, for one.  If Sera wanted to meddle and invite the etriel back again I wasn't going to argue.  After all just because I'd like to see the fair woman again didn't mean I was going to marry her or anything.  And besides, I wanted to know just why she seemed so…annoyed at me.  So, rather than refuse, I nodded.

"If you want, I suppose it would be alright." I had to sound a little reluctant, otherwise Sera would think that something was up.  She was, after all, used to having me resist such things.

Needless to say Sera was ecstatic, and went to bed that night with her head full of plans and hopes.  Poor thing.  Truly I feel bad that I can't provide her with something she appears to greatly desire, but she will survive.  Besides, my interest in Rosealliele Silverspear is purely physical.  Now all I have to do is convince her to reciprocate.

Two nights have passed since we had dinner with Rosealliele.  The students are beginning to filter back into school, all of them excited at the prospect of a new year of learning and the like.  Strange thing is, though, my mind is not on the classes I will soon be teaching, or on seeing my students after such a long break…but on Rosealliele.  The fact of the matter is that I cannot seem to drive her from my thoughts.  The more I try, the more I end up thinking about her, going over the conversations in my mind again and again.  I have a nagging feeling that I should know her, for one.  Yet I cannot place her in my memories at all.  I suppose this sudden obsession proves that celibacy lasting any decent length of time cannot be healthy for males.  Maybe this is the reason so many of us get tricked into marriage…well, this, and the "duty" forced upon us by our families.  This terrible feeling of…lust, I suppose, could be an explanation, anyhow.  

In any case, I have managed to drop the hint to Sera, without giving anything away, mind you, that it would be fine to invite her abjuration teacher back any time she wishes. So now, I'll just have to wait and see if she accepts.  If she does, annoyed or with me or not, it must mean that she is at least willing to tolerate my presence.  And that is always a step in the right direction.           

I saw her again today.  She was having lunch with a few of the other teachers, only a few tables from where I was seated with Bran, Tully, Magnar, Rogan, and Harl.  Harl was talking at me, praising the colt that Lashrael 2 had sired on his mare.  He was saying something about how smart the beast was, but I hardly heard him.  I picked at my food, as I watched her.  She was talking with Joylin, Starya and Lavender about something…they were just out of hearing range.  Starya mentioned something, the elven druid's expression was questioning towards Rosealliele.  Then Rosealliele laughed.  I could just barely hear the sound, and as I was wondering why I found that sound so intriguing, I noticed that the four of them were shooting glances in our direction…more specifically…my direction.  When my eyes caught hers, our gazes locked for a brief moment…long enough for me to suspect that they had been laughing about me.  Irritated, I dropped my gaze back to my plate, not feeling overly hungry just then.  

Conversation continued on around me, but I hardly paid note of it, until Harl got up to leave.  With the straight-laced presence of our paladin in residence gone, the conversation took a turn towards less…polite topics.  

"So, Keledrial," Bran nudged me with his elbow.  "What think you of the new abjuration teacher?"  Trying to sound nonchalant, I replied.

"She's fair enough, I suppose."

"Only fair?" asked Rogan, the archery teacher, with a half-grin.

"Aye.  I've certainly seen prettier on Evermeet," I shrugged.

"Elf or no, though, she's definitely a pleasing wench to gaze on," Bran commented, looking pointedly in her direction. The lascivious expression on the northman's face annoyed me, for some reason…as did the idea of a human admiring Rosealliele.

"But not for the likes of you, Bran," I almost snapped at him.  My tone drew all of their eyes to me. 

"Ah…I see," Bran nodded, taking my words good-naturedly.  "You fancy the wench, is that it?"  Thinking that it would better to just agree with them than protests, which would only make them more suspicious, I shrugged.

"And why not? As I said, she fair enough.  And I haven't had a woman since I left Evermeet." 

" Well ye'll get no trouble from us, lad," Tully stated, the others nodding. "But if ye've got ye're eye on her, I'd move a wee bit quicker.  Wasn't it yesterday that we saw Kellenes chatting it up with the girl?" he asked Magnar.  The dwarf nodded and grunted, not overly interested in our discussion of an elven woman, I gathered.  

So Kellenes had his eye on her.  Fine then.  All the more reason to try and seduce her, I figure.  After all, I may have a truce with his brother, but I still owe Kellenes a beating.  And since I can't do it physically…well.  Let us just say that this type of "competition" was one I learned to fight well while on Evermeet.  And it could be every bit as enjoyable as pummeling the little shit with my fists.

Sera is upset, and for that matter, so am I.  We waited for Rosealliele to arrive for dinner for nearly two hours before giving up, and eating the cold meal alone.  Sera had used all of her meager cooking skills to aid the cook with the dinner.  She had been so happy at the idea of being able to impress the etriel. By the time I finished eating, Sera was beginning to sniffle unhappily.

"Sera," I said to her, sighing.  "I am sure the etriel merely forgot that the dinner was tonight.  There's no need to be upset." Sera shook her head in response, her silver eyes growing wider as they started to fill.

"No…she said she would come, but she didn't.  She doesn't like us anymore." 

       "Sera…" was all I said.  What could I say?  I certainly didn't know the reason behind Rosealliele's absence.  Thankfully, the eruption I feared did not occur.  Sera merely sighed, and stood up.

       "Maybe you're right, Daddy. I think I'll go to sleep now."  She gave me a kiss goodnight, and shuffled off to her room in such a dejected fashion that it was painful for me to see.  All I could think was that the woman had better have a good excuse for making my Sera upset.

       The next day, when no apology arrived, I decided that it might be prudent to go speak with Rosealliele myself, to ask what had happened.  However, either I was looking in the wrong places, or the etriel had done her best to avoid me, for I did not manage to see even once throughout the course of the day.

       Just before giving up to leave the school grounds and return to the Sunstar house for the evening, however, I caught a glimpse of her, near the teachers' housing.  She was speaking quietly with Kellenes Dakarios, and though they were not touching, something within me grew angry at the sight of them standing together.  Before I could think better of it, I strode up.  

       She seemed a bit startled at my sudden appearance; Kellenes less so.  

       "Is there something you want, Nightstar?" Kellenes asked, rudeness evident in his tone.  Ignoring him, I focused on her.  

       "I would like to have a word with you, etriel," I stated.  She looked up at me.  There was a flash of anger in her violet eyes, but then she smiled pleasantly, and once again I was left wondering.  

       "Of course, Lord Nightstar.  If you would excuse me, quessir?" she nodded to Kellenes.  The other bowed curtly, and stalked off.  I paid him no mind.

       "I was wondering what the reason was for your absence yestereve, etriel?" I ground out, uncertain of why I sudden felt so angry.  "However, it occurs to me, perhaps, that Dakarios' presence might explain it."  The last comment slipped out.  I swear I hadn't even been thinking such a thing, but well…there it was.  She stared up at me, meeting my gaze fully, and replied,

       " Was the invitation yesterday?  I'd forgotten.  I am so sorry."  She sounded sincere, but I was certain she wasn't.

       "If you are, then I accept your apology, etriel.  However, I don't care for seeing my daughter upset.  I won't have you toying with her affections."  I could hardly imagine why I was being so rude. Well…it's not like I am not rude, for the most part, but I do have some manners.  I should have been being more polite to her, her being a lady and all…still there was just something about her that was rubbing me raw.  What she said, in response to my statement, however, was most certainly…interesting.

       "Unlike _you, Lord Nightstar, I do not "toy" with peoples' affections," she bit out, the anger that I had glimpsed readily evident now._

       "Do you have some sort of grievance with me?" I asked her.  "Have I wronged you somehow?"

       "You don't even remember, do you?" she countered with a question of her own.  

       "Remember what?"  I was growing annoyed.  She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring brilliantly.

       "How comforting to know how little the lives of others are to you that you can't even recall when you ruin them," she remarked.

       "How did I ruin your life?" I demanded.  I could not, for the life of me, ever recall having met her before this, and certainly I didn't remember ruining her life!  Why couldn't the frustrating woman just say what was eating at her?

       "Not me, you…" she cut off the curse she had been about to say.  "My cousin!"

       Your cousin?" I repeated, trying to think whom she could be talking about.

       "See?  You have no idea whom I am speaking of do you?  For your information, _Lord Nightstar, her name is Miraya Silverspear."  The name did summon a face to mind…a moon elven woman, silver hair, green eyes.  I shrugged._

       "As I recall, etriel, I spent only one night with Miraya…the same night I met her.  A night, I might add, which was entirely of her initiative.  Rather a short period of time to ruin someone's life, don't you think?"  She almost quivered with anger.

       "You seduced her!  I know all about you!  Do you think I don't have ears to listen with?  Keledrial Nightstar…the poor youth who had to grow up among humans.  I almost felt sorry for you…but that was before you started earning your new claim to fame.  My cousin was to be wed…to a fine quessir, I might add.  But no!  Along you came and he wasn't good enough for her anymore!  She threw away her marriage, her betrothed, and our family's honor for _you…and you can hardly even remember her name!"_

       "Why are you so upset about it?" I asked, a bit confused.  "I didn't do anything to you."  I caught a change of expression in her eyes…an ever so slight altering, before she turned her back to me.  I could be wrong, of course…it certainly wouldn't be the first time…however, I am almost certain what I saw was the smallest hint of jealousy.

       "You ruined my cousin's honor…and through her, my family's," she told me.  I laughed.  

       "I don't think so.  Miraya certainly did not have enough standing in your family to ruin the great Silverspear name.  And further, as I said, it was your cousin who came to _me_.  She "ruined" herself, if that's what you wish to call it.  However, I was under the impression that the People, unlike the humans, were not so particular about things like virginity and the like."  She spun back to me, her fists at her sides, clenched.

       "That's not the point!  You didn't even care about her!"

       "No…I didn't.  I won't lie.  She's just was just another woman to me." I shrugged.  

       "That's all we all are to you, isn't, Keledrial?" she snapped.

       "I've yet to find any woman worthy enough to elevate my opinions," was my slightly acidic reply.  All I had wanted was an apology for missing the dinner that Sera had planned.  I wasn't exactly certain how all of this had come about, or why.  Yet I did know one thing…the conversation was growing less concerned with my seduction of Rosealliele's cousin, and more concerned with my opinions on women in general.  Finally Rosealliele shook her head at me.

       "Then you apparently haven't been looking very hard have you?"  With that, she spun away and u into the building behind her, slamming the door.

       As I walked back to the house, I wondered just exactly what all of that had really been about.  The truth of the matter is, as I have said, I don't think it was so much about her cousin, as it was her disapproval of my behavior…which is, of course, ridiculous, for as I stated, I never did anything to her!  I vow, I will never understand what goes on in the minds of women!

       The past few weeks have certainly been annoying, let me say.  The students, for the most part have been all right, not causing much trouble, except for Jaelen and Sorcha whose rivalry is even worse than it was last year.

       It is everyone else that has been driving me nuts.  Where shall I begin?  

       First there is Zelairwyn.  He and Liralyn had an argument when he attempted to confront her over the issue of his father and the medallion.  He's been biding his time, and I am surprised he waited this long to act.  At this point I think he would just be satisfied with Liralyn "revealing" his father's name, and let the issue of the medallion go for a while.  Naturally, she refused. The argument was not a quiet one either.  Less than ten minutes after it began, everyone in the house began to come up with excuses to be anywhere else but there.

       When he did not prevail, Zelairwyn's parting words to his mother were that he hated her.  A door slammed, and a moment later I heard the sound of my cousin crying.  I don't know why she is being so stubborn about this.  What could it possibly hurt for Zelairwyn to know his father's name…especially when he already knows it anyhow?  

       Deciding to stick my nose in, I went to where my cousin was, in her study.  Her golden head was down on the desk, shoulder shaking.

       "Why don't you just tell him, and spare yourself the heart ache, cousin?  What harm could it possibly do?" I asked her.  Her head came up off the desk.

       "You're right, I should tell him.  But I won't.  I don't want him to know how close he is to danger, all because of his father's name.  Then he would start wondering about the medallion even more, and demand to know that next.  He's so stubborn, just like Xharlion was!  He would never let it go…just as you won't let it go, will you?"  I shrugged.

       "I am trying to make things easier for all of us.  Why must you persist in refusing him the truth about who he is?"

       "Oh, you!" she clenched her fists on the desk, her voice strained.  "It's you who's causing all this trouble!  Wherever you go, trouble follows, Keledrial!  Can you never be content to just leave things as they are?" 

       " Apparently not, cousin," I sighed, for her words had stung just a little.

       "I just want my child to be safe!  Why can't you and he just accept that?!"

       "Sometimes safety is not the most important thing, cousin.  You have to be able to live first.  Otherwise what reason is there for safety?" I asked, thinking of my own struggles with my parents and how close to Arvandyr I nearly came because of their well-intentioned "safety."

       "Why is it so important to him, anyhow?" Liralyn's eyes were liquid silver, even as tears or frustration spilled over her golden cheeks. It was so odd to see an Ar'Tel Quessir acting so emotionally, when it has always been we moon elves who are accused of such behavior.

       "I never met my father!  He was nothing more than a name to me…worse, his very memory stole my mother from me…from Mallorn!  I hated him, even knowing that he knew nothing about my existence!"  She stood up, nearly knocking her chair over in her vehemence to convey to me what she was trying to say.

       "I hated her for loving him so much that she didn't have enough left over for Mallorn or I!  He wasn't even an elf anymore when she abandoned us to seek him out!  Not even an elf!  Just a damned vampire!  And why should Zelairwyn care about Xharlion when he has me?!  Xharlion was nothing more than a spoiled boy, and I was a stupid girl to ever think he loved me!  Why is it never enough to you men to know that you have our love?  Why do you always think you know better about what is good for us?!" Liralyn was now screaming at me, focusing all her pent up frustration and fury on me.  

The words coming from her mouth were years of bitterness and resentment building. I didn't know what to think, or do.  She hadn't loved Xharlion?  Or had she? She was obviously angry over her mother and father…although come to think about it, I do not think I recall ever having heard the name of her father.  And what she meant by calling him a vampire?  Surely she hadn't meant a real vampire.

       I stood there dumbly, my mind recognizing that I should say something to comfort her; that she was becoming hysterical… my lovely, calm, gold elven cousin, hysterical…however, I stood there, like a fool, unable to think of a single syllable to utter to help her.  I have never been very good with words…or my emotions, but I feel that that is no excuse.  Or at least it is not a good one. 

       "I just want…" she never did finish the sentence.  Instead, she hurled herself at me, pummeling at me, yelling that she hated me.  I grabbed her wrists quickly, not about to let her attack me when I had done nothing wrong.  She struggled for a moment, than gave in with a deep sigh.  Her head slumped forward, blond hair hiding her face.  

       "I just want everyone to be safe…to be happy…Zelairwyn wouldn't be happy if he knew the truth…just like I wasn't happy when I found out the truth…" 

       "Liralyn," I began, in a tone as gentle as I could manage.  "I understand what you want.  I really do…but no matter how much the truth hurts, sometimes it has to be said or the lies fester."           

       "Just go away Keledrial," Liralyn said to me, unable to meet my eyes.  "Just leave me alone.  I need to think."  Deciding that at this point retreat was the best option, I began to release my cousin's wrists, when a movement by the door caught my attention.  

       Zelairwyn stood there, his silver eyes furious, fists clenched at his side.  

       "Mother…" his voice shook.  " I heard you.  I heard what you said.  I know his name.  I know you're lying to me about something."  Liralyn merely shook before me, crying still.  She said nothing.  Whether Zelairwyn had actually heard what had been said, I didn't know…but the shouting had certainly been loud enough, I imagine.  

       "And you," Zelairwyn suddenly turned on me.  "You let her go and leave her alone.  You had no right to make her cry.  You're a liar just like her.  You know the truth and you won't tell me…not because you can't, but because you won't. You promised to help but you didn't."  I dropped my cousin's wrists as though they burned me.  I felt a moment of sharp betrayal.  I had tried to help Zelairwyn…had come up to confront Liralyn to do that very thing, and he not only accused me of being an oath-breaker, but of attacking Liralyn as well!

       " I don't know why I bother," I muttered to them, annoyed to hear the slight tremor in my own voice.  "I'm damned if I do and damned if I do not, so what's the point of even trying to help?"  I left them to themselves, to argue or make up as they willed.  I was done with my cousins for the day.  Maybe even longer.  The constant stress is driving me mad.

       I arrived back at my rooms, determined to go into reverie and find some rest in some of my few happy memories…to leave this world for a while.  Even in the simple task, I failed.  

Before I had a chance to do so much as lay down, Sera entered my room, demanding to know why I had been shouting at Liralyn and why I had been mean to Zelairwyn adding that I should go back and say that I was sorry for doing it.

       I was so terribly frustrated and weary that I did not think as I replied.    

"Kaithseraly!" I all but shouted at her.  "Will you just shut up for a little while so I can think for five bloody minutes?! By Corellon can't I ever have a moment's peace?!   Between you and your cousins' incessant harping, I'll have a head of gray hair before my second century!"  

The minute the words were out of my mouth, I wished them back.  I cannot recall having ever spoken so harshly to Sera in her life.  Her reaction showed it, too.  Her lower lips trembled for a fraction of a second, and she bolted from the room in tears, ignoring me as I called out that I hadn't meant it.

I slumped to the ground next to my bed. I am thought odd because I have an actual bed that I take reverie in.  Most elves use chairs, or couches.  Not me though…I am just so damnably… human at times.

Somehow, I slipped into reverie after all…but it brought no comfort to me.  As I am told humans have "nightmares," there are times when even reverie is not restful to elves.  This was one such time.  Instead of finding peace in my good memories, I was tormented by the bad…all of my mistakes, old and new taunted me.  When my mind tired of that, I began to focus on none other than Rosealliele Silverspear.  Her face came to me again and again, beautiful and smiling at first, but then filled with such scorn, all focused at me, that I felt as though her expression was killing me.  

I awoke still feeling the pain in my heart that her gaze had caused, and the heaviness of melancholy upon my shoulders.

I forced myself to get up, uncoiling my sore muscles, and trying knead the kink out of the back of my neck.  I shall have to remember to never try to take reverie while seated on the floor.  

I decided that my first priority should be Sera.  I knew I had to find where she'd run off to and try to get her to understand that I hadn't mean what I'd said. 

A search of the house revealed only that she was not in it, and further, that night had fallen while I'd been trapped in my "nightmare."  Liralyn was locked into her study, Zelairwyn in his room.  I asked a few people if they'd seen her, ad took note of how they refused to meet my eyes.   Finally, one of the servants stated that they'd seen Sera running up the path to the school, so I headed in that direction.  

I looked about for a while, then, on a hunch, I walked over to the building where Rosealliele lived.  Sure enough, I heard faint sobs, even before I neared the door…a sound I would recognize even in death.

I knocked on the door, and a few long moments later it was opened by Rosealliele.  The etriel was a bit disheveled looking, yet still quite lovely, despite the tears stains on her simple lavender dress.  She looked up, saw it was me, and the look of scorn that had haunted my reverie…the very same expression crossed her face.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice mellifluous and sweet, despite her irritated tone.

"Is Sera here?  I must speak with her."

"Haven't you done enough damage for one day?" Rosealliele replied with a question of her own.

"I just want to see her, to apologize," I pleaded.  "I didn't mean what I said."  I had thought she would merely sneer and say something cutting…perhaps even slam the door in my face.  What she did, I did not expect, nor was I equipped to handle.  Her expression softened, and she seemed almost…understanding.  

"I know you didn't.  I don't think you have it in you to hurt her on purpose.  But she's still terribly upset.  Why don't you let her stay here tonight? That way you can talk in the morning, when things are calmer?"  I was stunned.  Wasn't this the woman who hated me for "ruining" her cousin?

"Why are you helping me?"  I wanted to know.  She shrugged.

"It's more like I am helping your daughter.  She's a good girl, and I hate to see her upset."

"That is the only reason?" I pressed. Rosealliele paused, as though considering her words…whether to speak or not.  In the end, she did reply.

"You made a mistake.  Everyone deserves a second chance to try and make things right."

"Do you really believe that?" I asked, wondering why my heart had begun to flutter and beat erratically within me.  Once again, she seemed to consider her words.  After a long moment, she looked back up at me, and all trace of the scorn was gone, and when she spoke, her eyes met mine and held, and I knew that she was truly sincere, for the truth was there for me to see, written plainly in the depths of her wondrously violet eyes.

"I guess I do." Then without any further discussion, she returned to the house, closing the door quietly behind her.  A moment later I heard her voice again but not the words, comforting my daughter.  I wasn't certain whether to feel grateful or jealous.  After all, Sera has always been my sole responsibility…the one thing in my life that I had always had to figure out for myself.  I can't say that I was happy about anyone else becoming involved…yet somehow, because it was Rosealliele, I did not mind as much as I think I might…which is, of course, bizarre, seeing as I know little to nothing about her!  

And as I left, I began to wonder what good I was doing here, if any.  I wondered what I could say to Sera to make right all I set wrong with my careless anger.  I wondered if I ruined things for good with my cousins, Liralyn and Zelairwyn.  And about the only thing I knew for certain was that Rosealliele Silverspear does _not hate me.              _

       I spent the night outside, as I did not care to attempt reverie again, nor had I any wish to be inside a building.  It was a dark night, for Selune's light was in its phase of renewal, and only the stars were there to illuminate the darkness.  I left the grounds of the school, and out into the forest.  Even at night the forest, though still, is not silent.  I wandered, hardly hindered by the illusions , for I could sense their magic easily enough.  None of the actual guardians appeared either, knowing, I suppose that I am a teacher at Everall.

The night air was cool for summer, but I hardly felt it. The sounds were soothing, though I turned over the many events that had occurred of late, over and over in my mind, keeping me from being truly calm.

I wondered if it was something about me, as Liralyn had insinuated…something that in me, perhaps, that felt the need to stir up trouble.  I almost think there might be.  After all, for all my claims that I desire some manner of peace in my life, I rather think that I would be bored to death if I truly had it.  Yet, all the same, I do seem to cause grief to whomever I am with, and it is certainly not my intention.  My friends, family, and acquaintances alike suffer my wrath, and suffer by their association with me.  The thought comes to me at times that perhaps it would be best to disappear into the vast spaces of Toril, and leave them to be free to live their lives as they so choose…without my interfering or harming them.  

Just as I was thinking such things, I reached a grove, mostly hidden behind a thick tangle of trees.  Within the grove was a pool of perfectly still water; so still that it would be as a mirror, had the moon been out to see by.  It was surrounded entirely by large oak trees that almost appeared to have been planted in a circle on purpose.  There was a faint tingle of energy to the air of that place, but it was not disturbing…more comforting than anything. It seemed like the perfect place to relax…or hide.  So I chose a likely spot and decided to attempt to do both.

My thoughts wended along the same track for a while, as I stared blankly into the water, seeing in the blackness of the pool the reflection of the night's stars in the sky…my namesake, I suppose.

The last thing I expected was to hear a voice pierce the silence of the grove.

"I know what you're thinking, and the answer is no."  

Normally I would have instantly been up, weapon readied to defend against peril, but I realized that during all the goings on, I had left weapon and glove on the stand beside my bed. Besides that, however, I felt no malice from the voice that was familiar…and in the calm of the night, had no will to fight. 

I did, however, look up to see whom the speaker was once I heard the softest rustle of leaves as said person entered the grove with me.  The light of the stars and my own excellent night vision made out familiar black hair, and a tunic so bright I could swear it nearly gave off its own light.

Mallorn…another cousin…great.           

"I do not know what you mean," I stated, dropping my eyes back to the water.

"You are thinking it would be better for all in your life if you were to go away…that you have caused them enough grief with your presence.  You are thinking it will help if you do this.  You are wrong."

"Reading my mind, now are we?" I asked, without much bitterness.  I couldn't seem to muster the energy for such high emotion.  "See anything else interesting?"  I heard Mallorn sigh, heard the sound of leaves crunching as he sat down not far from me.

"Nay.  I need not read your mind, cousin…for what you are feeling I have seen before.  And the result of the action you are thinking of, too, have I seen."  

"Tell your tale, bard, for I've a friend whose voice carries the same tune when he means to blather on.  I know better than to argue," was my reply to his statement.  I guess, to an extent, I did want to hear what he had to say…if nothing else than to try to make sense of what had happened today.

" It happened to Liralyn…and myself," Mallorn began, his voice taking on the mysterious quality that storytellers lend to their tales to catch the audience's attention.  But in my Cha Tel'quessir cousin's voice, I also detected a note of sorrow.

"Our mother thought once, as you do now for reasons she thought were equally as valid as your own.  She left me that day and I have never again seen her, to this day…and feel that I never again will."

"Why did she leave you?" I wanted to know.

"It is a long tale, some of which I suspect you already know.  It starts with love," he replied.

"It always seems to," I commented.  He ignored me, and continued.

"My mother, and Liralyn's…her name was Astianna Nightstar.  She, like Liralyn, like I, was a bard.  She learned in Evermeet, and came to the mainland seeking adventure.  But it did not end well for her.  Hardly more than a year or two after she'd left her home, her fellows dispersed after several failures.  Mother gave in, deciding to head back to Evermeet.  

She traveled back, towards Waterdeep, by caravan, but the caravan was attacked by bandits.  Mother was knocked unconscious and awoke in a temple, to the human god called Silvanus.  The priests there treated her wounds.  Yet, she soon found that all she owned had been taken, even her boots.  Mother eventually found work in a small village not far from the temple, in a tavern…singing for extra coins as she carried drinks and food to the patrons.

   When she finished work, she had only the night hours to herself, and she tended to walk.  On one walk, she discovered a grove, much like this one…and a pool that was similar as well," he gestured to where we were sitting.

"And as I entered this grove to see that it was not empty, so she soon discovered the one she had found was occupied.  Meaning to bathe, a voice interrupted her.  That was where she met Liralyn's father…the elf she fell in love with, only moments later, upon taking her first glance at him."

"Elven love?" I interrupted, scoffing.  "You mean to say you honestly believe that nonsense that an elf can just look at another and suddenly be in love with them, without even knowing them?"  Mallorn took the question in stride, merely shrugging his shoulders.

"She believed it," he answered in true bard form…not truly answering anything, that is.

"Living in the grove," he continued, as though he'd only paused to take a breath, "was an Ar'Tel Quessir by the name of Jander Sunstar.  Mother saw him, and loved him in that moment.  But she soon learned that his tale was sadder than her own.  The gold elf lived in the grove as a sort of penance, she discovered.  He was bound to never leave the circle of the trees, or a dread thing would happen.  Jander, you see, had once been like mother…an adventurer, heading home to Evermeet.  On his way home, he too was attacked…but he did not come out so fortunate as my mother.  A vampire bearing the shape of one that Jander had called "friend" attacked him.  And by the next night Jander was one of them…one of the undead."

"So that's what Liralyn meant!" I exclaimed softly, unnerved by the notion of an elf being forced to become undead.  It was a terribly thought, and must have been a more terrible fate.  Had it been me, I think I would have walked out into the sun the very next day and died, rather than hold such an unlife.  

"Aye…that is what my sister meant.  As I understand it, Jander wandered for a time, until he found himself free of his vampiric master.  One night, in despair, he called out to the gods, near the very grove where my mother met him.  And they answered…" he paused…for dramatics, I supposed.

"The human goddess Eldath, with the permission of Silvanus, granted Jander as much as she could, for the gold elf had a good heart.  She pushed him beneath the water of the pool in that grove, a holy place to Silvanus.  When he surfaced, he was alive once more, in every way but one; for though Jander breathed air, and felt true hunger once more, Eldath could not return the sun to him.  But as long as he stayed in that grove, she told him, he would remain as a mortal elf in every other way."  

I took a moment to contemplate what that must have been life…to be gifted with a new life, only to be forever trapped in one place, bound to the night for the rest of his natural life.  I shuddered, thinking that I would have slipped towards Arvandyr within weeks.

"It was not long after that that Mother stumbled into the grove.  She was glad to see another elf…so she told me.  She spoke with him for a time, but he must have felt her desire for him…her love.  They did not talk long.  I can only imagine that after so long being undead, that when his living sense awoke, he felt more types of hunger than one."  

I glanced over, and could see, even in the faint light that Mallorn was blushing as he was trying to explain that his mother, and this former vampire, Jander, had had sex…not that it wasn't obvious that it happened, anyhow.     

"Anyway, mother told me that she was fairly certain it was that first night when she became pregnant with my sister.  Apparently Jander truly had been restored to life in everyway but one," he added, unnecessarily. "The nights passed and mother became determined to stay with Jander, her love…even though the reality of it meant that she would be as bound to the grove as he.  And worse, the truth of it all, was that even as mother loved him, Jander did not love her in return.  I think that he might have tried, but it must not have been meant to be.

In any case, the affair did not last long.  One night, some few months after their first meeting, mother arrived to find the grove empty of his presence.  She saw smoke up at the temple of Silvanus…and it was not long before she learned what had happened.  The bandits that had plagued the area had returned and attacked the priests.  Jander, true to his nature had given up his gift from Eldath, and left the grove to save them.  Though he had done it out of good, the gods would not allow him to return to the grove.  So he left.  Mother never again saw him, though she searched long.

Once mother realized that she carried with her, perhaps the only child Jander Sunstar would ever sire, mother abandoned her search for a time, and went back to Evermeet, where she had my sister, Liralyn.  She stayed for a few decades, but her desire to try to find Jander, and seek some cure for him became stronger than her need to be my sister.  She left Liralyn in the care of her parents, and returned to the mainland.  

While my sister grew up on Evermeet, my mother searched.  Then, some many years later, my mother encountered a man by the name of Kail Darkriven.  This man was a half moon elven wizard, claiming to be a diviner who could find anyone for a price.  Mother was desperate, for she'd found no trace of Jander…as though he'd vanished from Toril.  She came to Kail, and asked for his aid.  He gave it…for a price.  The price was that my mother would be bound as his servant for five years, at the end of which, Kail would give her the location of her lover.  Mother agreed. 

What she didn't realize at the time, was that Kail was not the diviner her professed to be, but was far more skilled in the arts of necromancy, curses, and bindings.  Kail was not a pleasant man, nor one who liked being rejected.  It wasn't long before he professed to love my mother.  She rejected him.  When she did, Kail grew enraged and told her that he would do his best to find Jander Sunstar…that he might kill the elf and drive him from my mother's heart.  Mother tried to leave then, but found she was unable to break whatever magic he'd used to bind her.     

It wasn't long before Kail's anger turned to violence.  He raped my mother…and I am the result of that union.  When Kail learned about me, he began planning…telling mother that he would train me to be as he was.  My mother told me that Kail's grip on reality began to loosen, and that after I was born, she feared for her life, and mine. She mustered all her skill and used Kail's own spellbook to break the binding on her…and then she ran.

For the first five years of my life, I remember only that we moved from place to place, always hiding.  But in the end, he found us.  Kail was truly mad by that point, and had decided that mother had "corrupted" me by turning me against him.  

Though I was but a child, I will never forget his words that day.  He said that because my mother had been unable to love him, he would steal all love from her.  He cursed her, and with her, Liralyn, myself, and Zelairwyn…who was still unborn at that time.  His curse was that mother and all who had came from her would fall into a stasis-like sleep, and never awake until all the people we loved were dead.  He said that way, when mother next awoke, it would be to the knowledge that her parents, friends, and Jander would all be gone, and he assumed that Liralyn and I would blame her for the loss of the people we loved as well.     

After that, I remember falling asleep.  We awoke many centuries later…by that time, Kail had forgotten about us.  But he had hidden mother and I away in a place so well hidden that we were never found…which is why no elves on Evermeet could awaken my sister.  To remove the curse, you see, one would have had to find mother first," Mallorn informed, answering the question I had always had as to why no one...not even the high mages, had been able to free Liralyn from her enchanted sleep.

"Anyhow, mother stayed with me for the next ten years or so, but she was never happy.  The curse had taken its toll.  She believed, as Kail had wished, that my sister must hate her, and that I did as well, no matter my protestations.  She felt that her mere presence in their lives had caused the deaths of everyone she had ever loved, and had hurt Liralyn and I so much that we surely had to hate her.  It wasn't true, but in her despair, that is how she saw it.  She left just before I turned sixteen, leaving only a note professing her sorrow for having ruined my life, and asking that I convey the same regrets to my sister, should I ever meet her.  I never found her again, no matter that I spent the next ten years of my life searching for her…and still do, to this day.  

So coming to the point of telling you all this, cousin…I loved my mother…and so does Liralyn.  Her absence in our lives has been more profound than the so-called "destruction" she felt she brought to us with her presence.  I know that all that has happened lately has you thinking that maybe your daughter, and your family would be better off if you weren't in their lives.  So I say to you "No."  Don't even think it.  They need you more than you could imagine.  And if I could have anything right now, it would be to have my mother here for just one moment so that I could say that to her…as I should have when I had the chance," Mallorn stood up, as he finished, his eyes meeting mine for a long moment as he spoke.  Then without another word, he vanished back into the forest, presumably the way he'd come.          

     I stayed in the grove thinking over everything Mallorn had said.  There was a degree of merit to his closing statement, I suppose…for who better to know than one who has experienced the same thing?  And his story about Astianna had explained a few of the things that Liralyn had said, especially those things pertaining to her father, and confusion as to why Zelairwyn should feel so strongly about his father, when she had never really known one.  Still, for all that was said and done, I had gained sympathy for my cousin, and some understanding.  I had also come to a fairly firm decision that no matter what happened, no matter how hard this got, I would stick to my duty and keep my place here…although it will certainly be more difficult with both my charge and his mother angry at me.  

Furthermore, I knew that I had no intention of leaving Sera, not that I ever did really.  True, the thought crosses my mind in moments of despair, but for all that she is truly the most important person in my life.  If she wishes me gone, that would be one thing…but until such a day occurs I will never be far from her life.  After all, had not Mallorn stated that he wished for his mother back more than anything?  I can't do that to Sera.  I can't just leave her.  She's far too important to me.  And I will go back to the school in the morning and do whatever I must to make certain she understands how sorry I am for yelling at her in such a harsh fashion.  After all she was only trying to make me act in the very manner I counseled her to. My temper gets away from me at times, but it is no real excuse.  Yes…I think that on the morrow I shall be doing quite a bit of apologizing…to Sera, to my cousins, and perhaps even to Rosealliele.  In the short term it will show Sera that I am sorry, and that I do practice what I preach at her…in the long run, perhaps apologizing to all of them will ease the tension a bit, and doing such a thing is a miracle that I would truly love to see achieved!


	16. Chapter 15

Here is the next chapter.  Sorry that it is shorter than usual, but between college and work I have little time.  Hopefully I'll be getting a laptop soon, and will be able to update more frequently.  I know the story is going a bit slowly lately, especially for those of you who prefer more action and such, but I assure that this is all working up to the final, great battle of the story.  Also, the Dramatis Personae has been updated, and now includes a small lexicon section at the bottom which explains the difference between all the –quessir words, and a few of the other elven words I've used throughout the story.  If I missed anything, ask and I will add it.  Read and enjoy. 

To Arabwel, Aquila, Catspaw0913, Crazefanficboi, Raelli, and Silverwolf, thank you again for all your reviews!

You know, I find myself fascinated at how fast news of any interest travels around the school…and further, how distorted it becomes.  Truly it is an amazing thing to witness, and even more irritating to be the focus of!

I ended spending the night in the forest…nothing bothered me.  I never did manage to find a decent reverie, and so ended up being a bit tired and sore by the time the sun rose and I headed back to Everall.  

I made certain to arrive after first class had already started, and after posting a note at the forge that my class was canceled for the day.  I left instructions that the students were to go to the library and research the heated and forging methods of one unusual type of metal.  We'll see what they come up with in the morning.  I should have been paying more attention to Tully and Magnar, taken more than passing noticing of the intensely curious expressions the two had, that I might have had more warning about the storm of gossip that had swept through the school.  

I made my way over to Rosealliele's apartments, and knocked.  I imagined that I must not have looked all that good after a night in the forest, for Rosealliele barely managed to hide her grimace beneath a polite smile as she answered the door.

"I want to speak with her," I stated plainly.

"All right then, come in," she replied.  When I didn't step forward, she stopped, giving me a questioning look.  I worked up my courage. I have discovered that apologizing to someone has to be one of the hardest things to do, even though it's only a few words and an admittance of wrongdoing.  Give me a nice battle with a dragon any day!

"Look, I…I just wanted to apologize," I managed to say to her.  She raised one dark eyebrow, curiously.

"Oh?  For what?"

"For my behavior towards you the other night.  I should not have accused you of what I did.  And…well…for your cousin, I guess.  I'm sorry that what happened between her and I upset you, or if it caused any grief to your family."  I suppose it wasn't a lie, for I was sorry it had upset her…it would certainly make seducing her harder, for one thing.  But as for my behavior, I suppose in that, I had been wrong to be so accusatory.  Truth is, my parents would have my head if they ever found out how badly I'd treated a lady of equal standing.  

"You are?" she asked, somewhat incredulously.  

"Didn't I just say so?" I replied with a question, a little annoyed.  Why is it that women need things to be repeated to them?  After all, I know she heard me.

"I…guess you did," she answered.  "I just never thought I'd hear an apology."  Then she looked downward, her eyes not meeting mine.

       "I guess I owe you one as well, then."

"What for?" I wanted to know.

"Well…you were right about one thing.  I did remember about the dinner…but I didn't go because…well, because I wanted to…annoy you," she confessed.  I think she might have wanted to say something other than "annoy" me, but I'm not certain as to what.

"I didn't realize how it would upset Sera, though.  She really is a sweet little girl.  And it was definitely wrong of me.  I guess we both made some mistakes."  I shrugged.

"I guess…"  

"Why don't we start over?" she suggested.  "After all, we're both nobles and someday, I may end up leading my house, just as you will lead yours.  The Nightstars and Silverspears have been allies since Myth Drannor, and it wouldn't do to have a rift between us." She made it sound all so sensible, as she held out her hand to seal the agreement.  I took her hand in acceptance, even though I was thinking that while she may lead Silverspear someday, I doubt that I will lead the Nightstars.  I'm not the type, for one…and leading usually requires some sort of heir.  I guess that technically Sylthas would be my heir…if I ever agreed to lead…which I may never do.  Still, there was no need for her to now that.  And besides…she's my daughter's favorite teacher at the moment…one reason to try to settle down the trouble.  Further, I realized I was no less attracted to her, than I have been since I met her.  I still firmly intend to try to seduce her…all though I'm sure that she won't be very happy with me once I succeed, seeing as I'll eventually get bored of her.  But I'll worry about that when it happens.

After the first apology was out of the way, Rosealliele lead me into her apartments.  They weren't large, but seeing as she was just one person, I and not very big at that, they didn't really need to be.  I guess the rooms were nice enough, with lots of cases stacked with all sorts of books…some of which looked quite interesting.  But the rest of the place seemed a little too…feminine, for one…and too small for another.  The place made me feel like I was some sort of giant, really.

Sera was not happy to see me.  She started to cry as soon as I walked in the room, as Rosealliele made a discreet departure.  I apologized immediately, several times.  Apologizing to Sera is easy to do, harder to get her to believe.  In the end, I had to try to explain all the reasons for what happened, my yelling, Liralyn's yelling, and so on…altering the truth enough so that Sera could understand, and yet without giving away too much about the real problem.  Children can be so difficult.  An hour later, I think I finally managed to convince her that Liralyn and I had been having a small argument, and that Zelairwyn had gotten upset about it…just as Sera often got upset when there was a misunderstanding of sorts.  She seemed to understand, and finally accepted my apology, though it also took a goodly dose of bribery to help her along.  Two new dresses and rides on Lashrael 2 for a month…that child drives a hard bargain.  And yes, I know, I shouldn't be resorting to bribery…but sometimes, especially when one is dealing with a dragon, it's the only way to go!

I ended up taking the rest of the day off as well.  I allowed Sera to have a ride on the devil horse, and after a bit of work, I set up a scrying mirror so she could talk with my mother and father, whom she claims she misses.  I miss them, too, but still, I'm rather glad to be out from under their control.  My father just never sees reason.  Fortunately, when I got around to talking with them, they didn't ask too many questions that I would have had a hard time answering.  They seemed genuinely glad that I was enjoying being at the school, but managed to hint that I was free to return home at any time I wished.  They certainly are hopeful.

Because I did not really interact with anyone besides Sera that day, I had no idea just the sort of rumors that had spread through the ranks of both students and teachers alike, like some sort of virulent plague.  But I did not have to wait much longer to find out.

The next day, class went well, except that every time   
I turned my back for more than a minute, I heard the kids whispering something.  I passed by Kalanas on the way to lunch, and the dark elf glared at me!  He actually looked angry!  No matter how rude I'd been to him in the past, he never responded…and our truce has been going fine, so I wasn't certain exactly what his problem was.        

At lunch, I finally found out just what was going on.  Tully and Magnar had managed to contain themselves all day, but Bran had no such compunctions, and the first thing he said as he sat down was,

"So Nightstar, is it true what everyone's saying?  Are you really the father of the headmistress' oldest boy?"

"What?!" I nearly choked on my lunch.  The northman raised an eyebrow, with a smirk on his face.

"Well, it's what everyone's talking about…about how you and Lady Sunstar had some lover's row over the kid last night.  Half the servants in the house heard the yelling.  Word got around quickly.  So…is it true?"  No wonder Kalanas had glared at me, I thought, my mouth probably hanging open as I gave Bran a dumbfounded look.  The dark elf and my cousin are supposed to be lovers.  I don't imagine that he liked hearing the interesting version of what had happened very much. 

"You don't honestly believe that, do you?"  I asked, incredulously.  Judging by the looks I got from Magnar, Tully, Bran, and Rogan, they did.

"Well, think about.  You showed up from Evermeet.  She's from Evermeet.  She gave you a job, even though you didn't know hardly anything about teaching.  The kid's always following you around, like you're some sort of demi-god," Bran ticked off the points on his stubby fingers, with the others nodding assent.

"And to be his father I would have to have sired him when I was in my sixties…while I was trapped on Ruathym!  No…technically, I would have had to sire him back before Liralyn fell under the curse, which was something like 300 years before I was even born, you idiots!"  I exclaimed.  

"Curse?" Tully asked.  I groaned. It ended up being a longer story than I'd thought.  

"Wow," Bran muttered appreciatively at the end of the shortened version of the story I had told to them, which included the curse, my childhood on Evermeet and Ruathym, my adventuring days, and such.  

"And I thought we had some stories up in the North! You elves are definitely something else," he commented.

"Aah...I heard better in Sundabar," Magnar grumbled, but for all that I noticed he'd been listening just as intently as the others.

"So that's how you learned the whole battle-rage thing," was Rogan's addition to the conversation. 

"Okay…so you're not the kid's father.  Why is it, then, that you're here.  And don't give us any tripe about being a teacher," Bran waved his hand about. "Your temper is worse than a dwarf's…" Magnar shot a dirty look at Bran.  The blond haired northman ignored him.

"…hells, you've got a temper worse than mine!  You don't really deal well with most kids, and you may be good at what you teach, but a teacher was definitely not your ideal calling," Bran finished.

"Let us just say that an important person on Evermeet gave me the task of keeping the boy safe," I replied.  I'm not certain how much anyone really knows about why I am here, but thought it prudent not to give away too many secrets in one day.  After all, it was hard enough trusting them with as much of my history as I did.

"Was it the boy's father?" Tully wanted to know.  I shook my head.  

"No. Zelairwyn's father is…dead. Otherwise, there wouldn't have been a reason for me to come here," I explained.  

"So why's he so important that you have to take care of him…or rather, what did you do to end up here?" Rogan asked.  I shrugged, and answered the second part of the question, rather than the first.

"Well, back on Evermeet my…reputation is not the greatest," I told them.  They exchanged knowing glances, and Bran gave me a fraternal sort of thump on the back.

"Bit of a trouble-maker, eh?" I shrugged.

"Some would say so."

"Well good, then.  At least you admit it, unlike others I know," Bran shot a look at Magnar, who grumbled something unintelligible and undoubtedly foul under his breath, in dwarven.

"See lads?  I told you not to believe every rumor you hear!" Bran stated to the others, excluding himself from the statement, earning him incredulous glares.

"Still, you think it's true what they say about…" Before Bran could finish the statement, Rogan promptly stuck an apple in the northman's mouth, effectively silencing the loudmouth of the group.

Now, I was on my way back to the house later that evening, trying to work out how I was going to fix things between Zelairwyn, Liralyn and myself without making it worse, when I caught a glimpse of motion behind me.  I turned, looking over my shoulder.  There was nothing there.  Upon turning back to continue my course, however, I discovered that my path was now blocked by one unhappy looking dark elven wizard.  I couldn't see his hands, as they were hidden beneath the cuffs of his sleeves, but judging by the set of his shoulders, and his defensive stance, I would wager they were either clenched, or contained spell components…hopefully not guano or something.  The last thing I wanted to have to do was dodge a fireball at this time of night.

" Do you love her?" he asked me, eyes narrowed as he looked up at me through a tangled shock of white hair.  Strange that his hair was a mess, for I've noticed that Kalanas always seems so neat…everything in order, as it were.   

"Do you?" I replied with a question of my own.  He did.  He didn't say anything, though.  He didn't have to.  I'm not so much of a fool that I don't recognize the sight of someone in love.  After all, I'd always had my parents…both sets of them to show me what it looked like.

"Are you Zelairwyn's father?" he asked rather than answer.

"Would it matter to you if I was?" I was taunting him a bit…I knew it. I practically couldn't help it.

"Damn it!  Just answer me!" Kalanas hissed, sounding frustrated.

"Look, Dakarios...if you love Liralyn and she loves you, you shouldn't have to ask of any of this," I finally said.

"I just wanted to know if you're her newest attempt," he sounded resigned…sad, really.  Even if he is a dark elf, I felt a bit bad for him.

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind, Nightstar. I was wrong to have said anything," he started to walk away, back towards the school.  So maybe a felt a little bad.  I wasn't exactly certain what the relationship was between the dark elf and my cousin, besides the fact that they'd had a child together…but I knew it couldn't be great, or else where would all of her other kids have come from.

"Hey Kalanas," I called back to him. "I didn't sleep with her, and I'm not Zelairwyn's father.  I'm just someone who came here to help them, whether they like it or not," I told him.  I heard him pause for a moment, and then continue walking.  I know he must have heard me, and I can only hope that he believed my words.  Otherwise, I'm sure his rabidly protective brother will show up at my room tomorrow, looking to tear my head off.  And considering all my work towards apologizing, mending bridges, and keeping truces, I don't imagine that my beating the daylights out of Kellenes would help much, now would it?         

It would be another two days before I even managed to see Liralyn, or Zelairwyn.  I hadn't really been looking very hard for them, though, seeing as I was really looking forward to apologizing, when I had only tried to help.

Liralyn proved to be the easiest, though, for it was she who finally found me.  She waited until just after classes had finished for the evening, and I was on my way back to the house.  Sera was not with me, for she had decided she wanted to stay and eat dinner at the school with her friends.  She told me that she and her dwarf friend, Rina, were working on a project for Rosealliele.  When I asked if they wanted help, both girls immediately said no, claiming that they had to do it all by themselves.  They promptly headed off towards the dining hall, giggling about something…one silvery blue head next to a dark auburn head.  

I watched them for a moment as they departed, marveling at the sight. I find it odd that despite everything I've ever read or heard about elves and dwarves being the worst sort of foes since coming here, I've learned that, more often than not, they seem to make the best sort of friends.  Despite the widely varying differences in opinions both races share, they seem to get along with each other as well as, if not better then any other race.  I think it might be because out of all the other races, we two are the longest lived.  Maybe that alone is reason enough for the strange love-hate relationship the dwarven and elven races seem to share.

And watching Sera and Rina, whom Sera claims is her very best friend…I was struck even further by the irony of a friendship between a dwarf and a dragon.  Yet, I thought that such a friendship would make even more sense, for both dragons and dwarves are…appreciative of treasures and the like.  Both like to keep "hoards." And Sera's hoard, I might add, is quickly reaching the point that it will surpass her birth mother's.

Seeing as the previous two days had been fairly quiet, I was rather relaxed as I headed back.  I did not expect to be stopped on the path…although perhaps I should have expected it, for things always seem to happen when I expect they won't…if you catch my meaning.

Liralyn was very quiet as she moved into step beside me.  I glanced down at her, only a little startled, and promptly resigned myself to either a lecture, or a yelling.

"Raising children…it's never easy, you know," she stated, not looking up at me.  I was well aware of that fact, but felt that she hadn't really been asking because she wanted an answer.

"I wasn't very old when I had Zelairwyn.  And when I did, I was alone.  No one I knew or loved was left for me to ask questions of.  I have had to do it all alone, learning as I go along," she continued.

"I made the biggest mistake the very night he was born.  I knew it was a mistake, but I did it anyhow.  I felt that the end would justify the means.  But now…I don't know if I was right.  You know the biggest problem I have with you, Keledrial?" she asked, glancing up at me for the briefest moment…just long enough for me to catch the solemn expression on her face.

"You make me question my judgment.  No one…expect for maybe Mallorn does that.  My adventuring friends just accepted things.  If they had questions, they didn't ask.  Even Mallorn doesn't press too far.  He's afraid that I'll abandon him if he does, you see.  He thinks that one day I'll wake up and decide that I am wasting my time with him.  He thinks less of himself because of the circumstances surrounding his birth.  But you…you say whatever you think…you never seem to wonder the effects of what you say before you open your mouth."

"I'm sorr…" I began to apologize, but she held her hand up.

"No.  Don't apologize.  You were right. I have made a lot of mistakes…and this one with Zelairwyn…it might perhaps be my worst.  I treated him differently from his other siblings.  I thought I was keeping him safe.  I love all of my children, you know, but Zelairwyn is…special.  He's all I have from my life before the curse.  But for as much as I love him, I have forced him to grow up amidst ignorance…and lies.  Such a terrible lie.  Now that it has gone on for so long, though, I can't think of anyway to make it right.  I know if I tell him the truth…all of the truth, that he will hate me for it.  You kept saying I should just tell him, though…as though it were so simple.  Just tell him.  But I am so afraid to tell him anything…because I fear losing him.  And in my frustration, I turned my anger on you.  You, my cousin, are not to blame, so please don't apologize.  If nothing else, your voice, on this subject, is more like the embodiment of my conscience, which I have ignored for far too long.  I hear it now.  I still don't know what to though."  She fell silent, leaving me free to think on what she had said.  My voice, the embodiment of someone's conscience?   Liralyn must have more problems than I could have imagined if she was thinking such a bizarre thought!  

"At the risk of repeating myself, why don't you just tell him the truth? The longer you wait, the harder it'll get," I told her, knowing from experience than anything kept inside for too long begins to fester.  She shook her head.  

"Could you forgive such a lie?  I think you know, or at least suspect what I'm speaking of.  I've heard the sort of things you were researching in the libraries, you know."

"Cousin…what are you saying?" I asked, my suspicions growing.

"Only I can remove the medallion.  Only me.  That was the way I enchanted it.  No enemy or friend…no one, not even Zelairwyn, so that the secret would be safe forever," she whispered.  "But you guessed right.  It is only a spell that hides the truth.  Zelairwyn told me the truth…he's known about his father ever since he pried into your journal.  Now I must tell you the truth…I did the same."

"What?" I asked.

"I pried.  I wanted to see what else you had written.  I wanted to know a secret of yours so that I would have something you wanted hidden…to keep you silent."

"Blackmail," I stated dully.  "You wanted to blackmail me."  She nodded, looking ashamed.  

"I did, but I read your guess…the things you'd surmised from the nature of the spells I put on the medallion.  You guessed the truth when no one else ever suspected."

"The Queen did," I muttered aloud, hardly thinking what I was saying. Yet, even as I said it, even as I felt the burn of betrayal, knowing that once more someone had pried into my private life, I knew my words were true.  The Queen **had **known.  There could be no other reason for my being sent here.  And why not?  My skills as a warrior are not the greatest, nor have I excelled in magic as fully as I should have.  But of all that I have learned, there is one thing that I can do, that others cannot: I can rage.  I can rage and feel no pain, never dropping until my quarry or I fall.  In a rage, poison does not affect me nor do spells that influence the mind.  In a rage I cannot feel my wounds.  What better warrior to protect a child who might someday be a king?  And who better than an unhappy, troublesome noble who would do anything to redeem himself to his queen to accept such a task?  After all, guarding Zelairwyn is safe enough so long as no one knows what he is.  But the minute that secret comes out into the open it becomes an entirely different game of kholiast.

And by my own pushing, and a promise to help a boy nearly as angry and frustrated as I have been, I may have just done the very thing that would jeopardize Zelairwyn the most.

" She knows," Liralyn sighed.  "I guessed that she might, but I thought I was so clever.  So careful in hiding it.  But you found out…you out of everyone else.  So tell me Keledrial, you who are nearly as much a human as you are an elf…you who are so smart that you figured it all out…who knows what it's like to be one thing and then forced to be another…what happens if I tell my son that his own face is a lie?  Will he still love me after I've told him that he is no gold elf, but truly his father son?  Or will he hate me when I remove the amulet, and show him that he, as you once were, is a moon elf in disguise?"  Her voice ended on a high note.  She was on the border of breaking.  

And now I knew…for certain.  Part of me wished that information gone, to forget this whole affair.  I wanted to walk away.  I wanted to leave all of this mess behind in that moment, yet knowing I could not.  It could be so easy to tell her to keep the lie.  Let Zelairwyn stay ignorant.  Conversely I could tell her a lie, saying that it wouldn't matter.  Tell him or no, and let the consequences be damned.  They were such distant family to me, they could hardly qualify, I told myself.  This was none of my affair, I wanted to protest.  

I did none of those things though, for it _was _my affair, as I'd told her so long ago.  I'd made it so, and now had to face the consequences.  I breathed in deep, feeling my chest stretch with the volume of breath.  I released it all again slowly.

"I would not hate you, if it were me.  I never hated them…not my foster parents…not my real parents, no matter what words came from my mouth.  I was angry at them.  I was in a rage when I thought my elven parents had abandoned me.  I was furious when my human parents kept truths from me that might have gotten me home that much quicker.  But I cannot hate them, for they all did the best they could do to keep me safe and keep me alive.  You'd know all of this, though if you read my journal," I couldn't resist the small jab…a small price to pay, seeing as it was she who'd invaded my thoughts. 

"But though I did not hate them, it took time for my anger to fade…some of it still has not.  But if you do not tell him, then you must face that he _will _learn someday.  Trueseeing may not be a common spell, but there are enough wizards out there who can cast it.  And that spell _will _reveal the truth," I finished.

She sighed.

"I have made a terrible mess of things," she stated.  I gave a laugh.

" As do I...all the time.  One gets used to it, you know." 

"I do not even know where I would begin."

"If raising Sera has taught me one thing, it would be that you cannot plan any thing."  

"I am truly sorry for forcing you into the middle of this, Keledrial," Liralyn told me with a sigh.  I shrugged.

"Look, 9 times out of ten, it is only myself I have to blame for my problems.  If I hadn't wanted to b involved, I wouldn't have bothered.  I like Zelairwyn.  He's a good kid, and he reminds me a lot of myself.  Truth is, when it comes down to it, I am not all that much older than he is.  I wanted to help him.  I do not know if I have managed to do so, or not, but I certainly did try," I explained to her.

       "Actually, I was on my way to apologize to you when you beat me to it.  I suppose we could just call things even and leave it at that…on the condition that you keep your nose out of my journal from now on," I added.  I swear, as soon as I'm through writing this, I'm going to lock this book up somewhere.  I wonder who else has had a "peek" at my writings?

       "Fair enough," Liralyn agreed with a nod.  "And…thank you for listening.  I am still not certain what I will do, though, thus I ask you keep my secret awhile longer."

"Very well, then," I replied.  "Oh, and will you tell that miserable drow that I am _not _your lover?  The last thing I need at this point is more trouble with him."  My cousin blushed, and nodded.

"I will tell him," she stated.  I gathered that she must have heard the rumors as well.

I finally managed to make it back to the house, without further incident.

The next morning, Zelairwyn showed up at the tilting yard for practice.  At first he was acting as though nothing was unusual, but I could tell by the ferocity of his attacks that he was still very angry.  I let him continue on for a while, until his attacks began to grow wilder and wilder.  He left himself open time and again, and each time I took the opportunity to show him the error in this.  I imagine by the time he finally hurled his sword to the ground and ran at me to attack me with his fists, that he was probably covered with bruises.  

Unlike the last time he has so lost his temper, I did not allow him the luxury of pummeling at me, but grabbed him by the wrists and lifted him several inches off the ground, while he raged at me, cursing and spewing obscenities in multiple languages.  Some of the curses were quite clever.  I shall have to try to remember them.

He struggled ineffectively to escape, but finally seemed to give up.

"Are you through with your tantrum?" I asked him after a period of silence had passed. After another long moment, he drew a deep breath, and nodded.  I lowered him back down to his feet gladly, for my arms were beginning to get a bit tired from holding him up at such and awkward angle for so long.  

He rubbed at his wrists, not looking at me, as I crossed my arms, waiting.  Zelairwyn did not disappoint.

"She told me," he stated dully, with the weary, apathetic tone of one who had just suffered some great emotional trauma is still have trouble taking it in and accepting it.  It was how I felt, how I imagined I must have sounded when I realized that my parents had been alive, and thought they'd abandoned me.

 "About what?" I prompted him when he did not elaborate.

"The truth.  About the medallion," Good for her, I thought silently.  I guess my cousin had decided to get it over with before she lost her will to do so.

"And?" I prompted again.

"You already know.  She told me you know.  How could she do this to me?  How could she lie about such a thing?" his voice was barely above a whisper.

"I imagine she did it because she loves you," I said.  He shook his head violently.

"No.  No!  If you love someone you don't lie to them!" He protested, vehemently.

"If you love someone, you will do anything to protect them from harm," I countered.

"That's easy for you to say," he sneered. "You never…"

"All right, Zelairwyn," I interrupted.  "You're spoiling for a fight.  I'm not going to give you one.  I can understand what you're feeling…but I also sympathize with your mother. Picking a fight with me is not going to make anything better.  If anything, it'll make it worse, seeing as I am still your guardian and I'm not going anywhere.  You make the choice: let this rule your life, or accept it and move on with your life.  Your choice.  I'm not the best person to be giving advice, I know.  But if you believe me in nothing else, than believe this: I know what it's like to not truly know who or what you are.  I've spent a long time letting that confusion rule me.  Not any more.  I'm Keledrial Nightstar.  I am your guardian, a teacher, and the father of a silver dragon.  That is what is important to me.  What's important to you?" I asked him.  I wasn't about to wait for an answer, as the question was meant to be something for him to think about.  

I left him there to think, but I made certain that I had Sanhandrian tailing him.  My familiar would let me know if the boy decided to try something stupid, like running off.  After all, I wanted to give him time to work things, but I was not about to let an heir of Evermeet get himself into a situation that could potentially be dangerous.  

Things began to settle down and return to normal fairly quickly…although perhaps normal is not the best word for it. After all, Everall and its inhabitants, as a whole, are about as far from "normal" as one could imagine.

Still, it was almost nerve-wracking that nothing terrible seemed to on the verge of happening.  It was like waiting for the axe to fall.  You are certain that it is there, lurking somewhere above you, only you simply don't know when it will fall.  I vow, my life has become much the same.  I think that I have grown more accustomed to disasters, and thus am having a hard time relaxing.  Strange, is it not?

       Then there is Rosealliele.  The politeness is all but killing me, I swear it.  She has come to visit after classes for dinner and what not several times since the last uproar had occurred, and everything was going well.    
       I find Rose, as she has asked that I call her, refreshing.  She doesn't simper, or annoy me the way many women do, and she has an insight about her that puts me in mind of Lita.  

True to her words, she has started over, leaving behind the animosity she had towards me, and has been nothing but friendly…and that is precisely the problem, damn it.  Friendly is all she has been!

My desire for her has not abated in the slightest.  If anything it has gotten worse with her frequent visits to Liralyn's house to see either Sera or myself.  I still cannot fathom why it is I have developed such a fascination with her, as she is not overly extraordinary.  Her black hair is nothing special, nor are her violet eyes unusual among the people.  I am convinced it must be the length of time it has been since I was last with a woman.  

Further, I would swear that she has some…attraction for myself, as well…evidenced by the way I will catch her glancing in my direction when she thinks no one is watching.  A classic tactic if I have ever seen one.  But she does not respond to any of the usual ploys that have worked in the past.  She is merely…friendly.  It is hideously annoying, I must add.  

And it does not help that Sera has been all but singing Rose's praises.  If my daughter is yammering on about Zelairwyn, whom she is still enamored of, then every other sentence falling from her lips has to do with the lovely lady Silverspear.  All I want to do is bed the woman, for Corellon's sake, not wed her!  

And to make matters just a little more frustrating, I have seen Rosealliele speaking with the oh so irritating Kellenes on no less than three occasions.  I will never live it down if he manages to seduce her before I do!  I just may have to try something drastic.  

It won't be long now…of that I am certain.  Already my reverie is filled with images of the fair Rose. I cannot seem to drive her from my thoughts…and after the kiss I shared with her this evening, I can hardly think that I should want to.

Dinner had been planned for several nights now, but at the last minute, Sera told me that she and Rina had to work on something down at the library.  She left just as Rose arrived, apologizing profusely.

Rose took it well, for though I've had a glimpse of her temper, she seems mostly fair-natured.  We ate the meal that Liralyn's cooks had prepared, speaking quietly, mostly about Evermeet, and a bit of my travels.  Everall is the furthest from Evermeet that Rose has ever been.  In her youth she studied a great deal about foreign lands, and confided that she had always wished to travel.  

We were sitting comfortably, talking.  I must confess, I was relaxed.  I do not think I have ever been so in the company of a woman not of my own blood.

It seemed the natural thing to do, to lean close to her and kiss her.  I didn't even really plan it.  It just happened.  One moment we were talking, and the next I was tasting the wine she had been sipping, as I explored her mouth with my own.

When I realized what I was doing, I think I expected to be slapped.  I expected her to tell me to stop at the very least.  But that is not what she did.

The lovely Rosealliele, the same etriel who had been so angry that I had "seduced" her cousin, closed her eyes, as she slipped her fingers into my hair and began to return the kiss!

I was surprised to say the least.  Still, I was not so surprised that I stopped.  

It was a while before we stopped…long enough that I knew her lips and would recognize the taste and texture of them even if I was blinded.  She drew back first, slowly, as though she was uncertain of something.

I looked at her, studying her face, her expression somewhat dazed.  She seemed to be thinking about something, and thinking on it hard. I certainly did not have to think to know that I wanted more, but as I leaned forward once more, she put a hand up to ward me off, shaking her head slowly.

       "I cannot," she whispered to me, her voice a touch breathless.  I swear if had not the control I do, just the sound of her might have driven me over the edge.

       "Why not?" I wanted to know.  "You liked it," I pointed out.  She nodded.

       "I did.  But I…had no right to do so," she stated.  

       "Then why…"I began to ask, wanting to know what she meant by that statement.  But she interrupted.

       "Because I wanted to.  I wanted to kiss you…but that does not mean I have a right to." I waited for her to elaborate, but she did not.  Abruptly, she stood up.

       "Dinner was lovely, but I must leave," she told me.  I rose quickly.

       "You don't have to leave," I protested, standing as well.  I reached for her hand, feeling the smooth skin under my fingertips for a moment before she pulled away.

       "Yes…yes I do," she said.  It almost sounded like she was trying to convince herself.  Before I had a chance to say more, she swept towards the door, an odd nervousness to her steps…a jerking of limbs that were usually graceful in their motion.

       I was not about to force her to stay, though I wanted to.  I opened the door for her studying her to see if I could discern whence her sudden apprehension had sprung from.  I caught her eyes for a second as she moved to leave, saw a glassiness to the violet hue that bespoke of tears.  Then in a flurry of motion, she was up on her toes, her hand on the back of my neck, pulling me head down for another kiss…this one more frantic than the languid one we had shared moments before.  

       Before I had any chance to respond further, she was gone in a whirl of skirts and hair, down the corridor, leaving me standing at the door.

       I closed the door, feeling a bit smug.  She had kissed me. Thus meaning that she felt something for me as well.  There was something nagging at her conscience, though, of that there was no doubt.  I'm fairly certain that it has something to do with her cousin…perhaps a feeling of disloyalty or something…who knows how women think? That might explain the jealous expression she had when we talked about my seduction of her cousin.

       I'm not worried however.  I'm sure I can manage to get her over the feeling.  After all she's not really being disloyal, seeing as I can hardly remember her cousin's name, let alone the lone night I spent with the woman.  It shouldn't be too hard.  I'll have Rose in my bed by the end of the week!****


	17. Chapter 16

Here is the next chapter.  A bit of battle in it, as well as Keledrial's continuing struggle with Rosealliele.  Enjoy and review!

To Arabwel, Aquila, Catspaw0913, Crazefanficboi, Raelli, and Silverwolf, thank you again!  Azurielle

I really do not understand women at all, and I vow that I never will.  Honestly, I think that they deliberately sit around and think up ways to annoy the males of whatever race they happen to belong to…and manage to annoy the men of all other races along the way.  It's ridiculous!

       She kissed me the second time.  She said she liked it.  When we talked, even before that night, she acted like she'd enjoyed my presence.  Now I can't get within ten feet of her without some manner of problem occurring.  If she isn't running off, then she's sending one of her friends over to stall me long enough to escape!  And for once, I haven't done a damned thing wrong!

       To make things just that much more frustrating, the others have noticed, and I swear if Bran makes one more insinuation that Rose's sudden distance has something to do with my lack of skill as a lover, I'm going to rage on him.  By the gods! Women!  Why couldn't Sera have been born male so I wouldn't have to deal with any of that scheming, evil gender?!

       You know…it's rather hard to write when one's knuckles are split open.  Still, for all the difficulty, I feel no remorse over the cause of the injury, as I truly enjoyed inflicting it.  

       I finally found out the reason that Rosealliele has been avoiding me, and why she left so suddenly after we kissed.  The reason, if it is true, as I would almost guarantee that it is, is both intriguing and utterly frustrating to me.

        According to a very irritating moon elf, who just had to stop by and give me the information, smirking smugly all the while, Rosealliele is betrothed to one Evyth Amarillis, a noble of the house Amarillis. 

       For the stunned moment after I heard this, Kellenes just had to get another hit in, adding that Rosealliele was an honorable etriel and had told him herself that she had no intention of betraying her family or losing her honor.

       "Besides, Nightstar, even if she wasn't to be wed, do you really think that she'd want to be with someone as narrow-minded and violent as you are?" He asked me.  You know, I just don't understand why he constantly feels the need to pick fights with me.  He's yet to truly win, after all.

       "Violent, am I?" I asked him quietly, a second before I lashed out, the knuckles of my fist connecting solidly with the flesh around his eye.  He staggered back, one hand clutching his face, while he reached for his weapon.

       "Oh, save it," I advised him, glancing down at my bleeding knuckles.  I might have known he'd have a head as hard as my own.  

       "Normally I'd oblige you with a fight, but I'm not in the mood for it at the moment." I walked off, leaving him stunned enough…either by my comment, or the punch, that he didn't even bother to finish drawing his weapon.

       So Rosealliele is betrothed.  What shall I think of that?  It wouldn't be the first time I had attempted to seduce someone who was already bound by a vow or promise of sorts.  But it was certainly interesting that she had stopped, when she had been clearly enjoying what was happening between us.

       As for Evyth Amarillis, I can say that I know of him, but have never met him.  Although from what I have heard, he's stuck up, self-important, and a scheming bastard…all from the mouth of the "virtuous" Sylthas, whom has crossed paths with the other noble before.  Sylthas, despite his friendship with Tobias, and myself, is a notably good judge of character and so I have to wonder why someone as nice as Rose would willingly betroth herself to someone like Evyth.  

The explanation that immediately leapt to mind was that she'd had no choice in the matter, much as I'd had no choice in my engagement to the damned Moonflower girl.  After all, among we "noble" families, it is still a common practice to make alliances between families by way of marriage…whether or not the participants in said marriage are willing, or even of age yet. Poor Rose was probably in the same situation.  Well no matter.  Betrothed or not, I still intend to have Rose.  The idea of someone like her with an elf as rotten as Sylthas makes Evyth Amarillis out to be, is revolting.  Besides, Rose likes me…better she should experience pleasure with me, than a lifetime of regret with the Amarillis rat.

I finally managed to corner her, although I did resort to slightly despicable tactics.  Using Sera, I had my daughter catch Rose in a conversation, and while she was detained, I moved in.  As soon as I approached, I could see Rose looking for a way to escape, but there was none to be had, for Sera kept firing question after question about the various nuances of the protection from evil spell.  Rose was forced to stand and answer the questions, while I sidled up to them.

"Ah, Sera," I began.  "There you are.  I think I heard your little friend, Rina calling for you."

"Is she looking for me?  Where?" Sera wanted to know.  

"Um…I think it was over by the eating hall," I lied.  Although it probably wasn't so much of a lie, come to think of it.  After all, I had seen Rina near the eating hall earlier in the morning, and she probably was looking Sera.  Thankfully, Sera took the bait and scampered off.  

"Well, I have to be leaving as well…"Rose began to move away.

"Oh no you don't," I told her, holding an arm out to bar her path.

"Lord Nightstar, please.  I have things I need to…"

"Lord Nightstar?" I repeated.  "Last week it was Keledrial," I reminded her.  She sighed, crossing her arms defensively.

"Things have changed," she began.

"What things?" I interrupted. 

"I can't do this," she stated.

"Do what?  Talk to me?"

"No, I just can't be around you," she said.

" Why not?"  She didn't respond.  I think she was trying to come up with a valid excuse.  

"I think that you're scared," I told her.

"I most certainly am not!" She exclaimed, sounding quite a bit insulted.

"Yes you are.  Why else would you have suddenly decided to ignore me after kissing me?"  Her face paled at the words, a faint bluish hint of a blush appearing on her smooth cheeks.  

"That was a mistake…" she replied, backing up a little, when I took a step closer to her.

"Yes, ignoring me must have been a mistake," I agreed.  " Especially since I know that you felt the same as I did about those kisses."

"You don't know what I feel, and that's not what I meant…" she protested weakly.  Before she could say anything else, I pressed her up against the wall of the wizard's building and kissed her.  She didn't try to stop me, nor did she resist once my mouth met hers.  I can't really describe how sweet she tasted, nor can I explain why the scent of her hair and skin had me aroused in less than a breath's span of time.  

When I stopped a few moments later, to let her catch her breath, I heard her sigh.  Looking down at her, I met her eyes.  There was pleasure there…but confusion as well…confusion and a battle.

"Keledrial," she began, her voice a little breathless.  " You're trying to seduce me, like my cousin, and I won't let you."

"I am trying to seduce you," I admitted.  "But this is nothing like your cousin.  I told you, I can barely remember her.  You, I could never forget."   I kissed her again, this time putting my arms around her to keep her from going anywhere.  

When we stopped again, she did not try to pull away, instead, leaning against me.  I felt her shaking a little, and it took me a moment to realize that the shaking came from tears.  I hate it when women cry.  It has to be the most effective, and most annoying weapon in their whole arsenal.

"Rose, what's the matter?" I asked.  

" I know this seems right…" she replied after a moment, her voice ragged sounding with tears.  "But it isn't…this is wrong, Keledrial."

"How can it be wrong?" I wanted to know.

"I…" she didn't finish was she was about to say.

"You're betrothed, right?" I asked.  Her eyes were shame-filled as they met mine and she nodded.

"So what?  So am I.  What does that matter?  You don't love him, or you wouldn't be at Everall at all, let alone in my arms. I can't even stand being in the presence of my betrothed, and she likes me even less, if possible. Why should it matter then, if there is no feelings involved?"

"Because a vow is a vow, Keledrial, and once said should not be broken," she protested, pushing out of my arms.  I could have held her there, but did not want to frighten her, or anything.

"It doesn't matter whether I love my betrothed or not.  The truth is, I've never even met him.  But I made a vow to wed him and I will keep it, and not dishonor my family" she told me in a resolute sort of fashion.  I laughed.  Maybe I shouldn't have, but I did.

"You actually believe that?  Why in Corellon's name, would you rather spend your life with someone you don't even know, rather than take a chance with someone you're at least attracted to?"  Her eyes widened fractionally.

"Are you asking me to break my promise and wed you instead?" she asked, her voice a little more high pitched than it had been a moment ago.  That had me panicked for a moment.  Only a woman would find that question in the statement I had just made.

"No!" I protested quickly.  The last thing I wanted to do was give her ideas that there was no way in Toril I meant.   

"I'm just saying that maybe you should try to…experience certain things before you decide to bind yourself to a stranger…whom, I might add, is not said to be the nicest of elves."

"Neither are you rumored to be overly civilized," she snapped at me. I took a deep breath, attempting to control my temper. As much as I like to think I am becoming immune to such insults, it particularly hurt coming from her, for some reason.

"All right, Rose.  Fine.  I'll leave you alone, to remain…pure or whatever it is you think you're accomplishing here, if you can honestly say that you feel no attraction towards me."  She was quiet for a long minute, and I was betting that she would not be willing to lie.  Finally, she replied.

"It would be untruthful to say that I feel nothing for you.  But what I feel for you is obviously not the same thing you feel for me, and so this will go no further.  I will not dishonor myself, therefore you must leave me alone."

"Where is it written that you have to be a virgin to be married?" I asked her.  If she had been a human, her face would have turned crimson at such a blunt question…as it was her cheeks and the tips of her ears certainly turned a lovely shade of blue.

"Oh! You…!" she seemed so almost too flustered and furious to respond for a moment.  It was truly enjoyable to watch her scramble for an answer…or at least a proper set down.

"It's my choice, for you information, Lord Nightstar!" She hissed at me.  She reminded me of an unhappy elven cat…pretty and dainty, even when riled.  I wanted to smile, but dared not, for fear I would have to counterspell whatever curse or fireball she decided to hurl at me.

"Furthermore, I'll thank you to mind your own business, mind where you place your…mouth, and for Sehanine's sake, leave me alone!"  With that, she brushed past me, storming off.  I watched her intently, until she was out of sight, before I allowed myself to grin.  All things considered, I think it went well.  After all, she wouldn't have been nearly as…emotional about the whole encounter, if she despised me as much as she was trying to convince herself that she did.  I am no longer the foolish elf who threw tantrums every time I got rejected, or merely smiled at a woman hoping for a proper response.  The truth is, I am beginning to think that winning Rose over was going to be quite a challenge…and for once, it is a challenge that I anticipate facing.

I am making progress.  After her little fit of temper, Rosealliele seems to be having more and more trouble avoiding me…and at least that much trouble resisting me.

Sera, you see, thinks I that I like Rosealliele and mean to marry her, or some such nonsense.  I had Sanhandrian spy on Sera, and he overheard her talking with Rina.  Apparently the "project" she and the dwarf girl have been "working" on is some sort of match making attempt.  Seeing as Rina's parents only recently wed, Sera has been garnering advice and aid from the other girl.

So I have been using Sera's determination to garner herself a mother to my best advantage.  Sera has been quite helpful in "arranging" encounters between Rosealliele and myself.  She thinks she is making everything seem "coincidental," and I let her believe so, as it is helping me towards the greater goal here.  

And thus far, each encounter with Rose had been more and more successful in my favor.  She continues to try hold onto her excuses: her betrothed and my bad reputation, but it must be a struggle.  After all nearly every time I have managed to get her alone we have kissed...and occasionally a bit more.  Better yet, at least half of the time, she initiated it.

I don't understand why she'd fighting so hard.  Still, it's intriguing.  After all, I've never met a woman who tries so hard to hold onto her honor.  After all, keeping promises, especially ones involving chastity and so forth hardly seems like a womanly trait. But, in the end, I'm certain she'll prove like all the others…and I will finally be rid of my bizarre fascination with a woman who is not all that unique!

What is happening to me?  This is insane!  Why can't I stop thinking about her?!  It's becoming an obsession, which certainly cannot be healthy. Even my students have noticed my lack of attention to just about everything about me, judging by the giggles and whispers I hear coming from them, the moment they believe I am not paying any attention.  

The whole situation is becoming absurd.  Why, after all should this one woman be affecting me so?  And for Corellon's sake, why can't she just act like most other women and sleep with me?  It would let the both of us get over this…attraction and get on with our existences.  

I tried to talk with Rosealliele about what is happening, but either I didn't explain things right, or she didn't understand.  When I told her that I couldn't explain why I wanted her, explained that my need for her continual presence was bordering on obsession, she only shook and sighed.  She told me that if an obsession was all I thought this was, that she felt truly sorry for me.  And then, after uttering such an annoyingly cryptic statement, she refused to elaborate.

I would that I had someone to talk to about this, to advise me as to what's happening.  Celedor would be ideal, but the priest, as far as I know, is still in Waterdeep, which is quite a distance from Everall.  I dare not say anything to my friends here, or I know that Bran, with his massive mouth, would have it bandied about the school within a matter of hours.  Frankly, though, I doubt that any of them would be much help in the situation.

I only write this to get out some of frustration, as I have no idea how to resolve the dilemma, short of getting Rose to agree to be my lover…which at this rate, might be sometime before my second century…if I am lucky!

Why does it never fail, I wonder?  In that I mean, that it never fails that interruptions come at the worst possible times.  It has taken me months…quite literally, to reach the point I am at.  I very nearly convinced Rosealliele to agree...I am positive of it.  The trouble is, before she had a chance to finally put an end to our mutual misery, I felt a strange tingle of magic, as the amulet around my neck activated.  I had mere seconds to grab my sword up, and give Rose…whose black hair was tangled from my hands in it, and her lips swollen from my kisses…an apologetic look, before I felt the teleportation spell activate.

A breath's span later, I was standing in the courtyard of Banshee keep.  Before me, the Banshee, and about two dozen human and elven soldiers were geared up for battle.  

"I assume you're ready to fight?" Rain the Banshee asked me, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of her cutlass. I nodded, clearing my head of the disorientation inherent in teleporting.  I hadn't had time to grab my armor, so I was lent some from the armory there.  Unlike my preferred forms of armor: either magic bracers, or a breastplate, what they had for me was a suit of blackened chainmail that had enchantments on it to allow the wearer to move more silent, more swiftly, ad hide better.  I pulled the armor on.  It resized itself to fit me as I did so, a fairly common facet of most magical armors.  I was also given a small vial of potion to drink down, told that the nasty tasting concoction would keep the drow poison from effecting me. 

"I trust you brought a sword that you can control this time?" An acidic voice asked.  I didn't have to look to know that it was the dark elf, Dazelin.  I glanced over anyhow, noting that he wore all black, as did most everyone in the battle party.  I gathered that whatever we were going to be doing involved a degree of stealth.

"Don't make show you just how well I can control my sword, dark elf," I commented calmly.  He snorted in a derisive fashion.  I ignored him, not even bothering to rouse my temper…amazing how tolerant I am becoming, isn't it?

"Dazelin, knock it off," Rain told the dark elf, in a half-hearted manner.  She was probably too used to his bad behavior to bother truly chastising him…much as I imagine the majority of my few friends, have become accustomed to my personality.

"So, Nightstar," the Banshee glanced up at me.  "Ready for a bit of night work in the forest?  Considering your name, and all, it would seem that you'd be appropriately suited, after all."

"Tell me what needs to be done, and I'll see to it," I told her, firmly.  She chuckled.

"Gods, are you ever arrogant!  Noble to the core, right?  Oh don't get worked up now.  Here's the run down.  We got wind of a raiding party of drow headed for the Abbey of the Golden Sheaf.  Dazelin will be taking us just outside the Abbey via Teleport circle. We think they're house Jaelre, but its just as likely they're common Underdark raiders.  They're probably after the grain stores at the Abbey.  All things considered, the drow aren't the best farmers, and still need to food.  Seeing as the border forces and the people of Mistledale rely on the Abbey of the Golden Sheaf for grain and services, we thought we might have a bit of fun, and head the dark ones off before they get a chance to cause havoc with the priests.  You game?"

"What?" I asked, not entirely certainly of what she had mean by the last comment.  Human slang has never been one of my strong points.  She laughed, and shook her head once more.

"I asked if you were willing to go with us," she translated.

"I wouldn't have put on the amulet otherwise," I replied, as I finished putting on the necessary gear.  I was itching to have another go at the dark elves, but I rather hoped this would not take too long.  I can only imagine the fit Sera will work herself into, otherwise.

Just as we were getting ready to leave, I heard Rosealleile's voice whispering in my ear.  

"Keledrial?" she sounded concerned.  "Where are you?  Are you all right?  Should I get help?"  I knew the spell she was using was a sending spell.  She would only be able to speak to me once, and I would only be able to respond to her once.  I did not want her here…or anywhere near any battle for that matter, so I was careful to make what was going on sound nonchalant.

"No.  I'm fine.  Stay where you are.  I'm just helping some people out with a vow I made them.  I should be back by tomorrow…the day after at the latest.  Tell Sera."  I knew that Rose would keep an eye on Sera for whatever length of time I was gone.  All things considered, perhaps a brief absence on my part would be a good thing.  Maybe it would let Rose realize how much she would miss me.  My thoughts on the subject were rudely interrupted by Dazelin's ringing sarcasm.

"If you finished talking to yourself, might we get on with this, while we still have night left in which to move?"  Not waiting for an answer, he finished casting the spell that would allow him to teleport the whole group of us at once.

We arrived in a fallow field that I was told was on the edge of the Abbey of the Golden Sheaf's land, less than a mile from the edge of the forest.  There wasn't a great deal of conversation as we moved swiftly towards the forest's edges.  As we passed into the trees, the group spilt apart, each taking a slightly different direction.  Uncertain of where I should go, I moved straight ahead, until the smaller form of the Banshee slipped up beside me.  I noticed that her bright red and white hair was hidden under a black hood, and her clothing was all dark as well.

"Our information says that they mean to cross the river sometime after dark, and move on the Abbey once they think the priests are asleep.  We're to line the banks of this side of the river, hide as best you can, or at least stay far enough back that they won't easily see you."

"Drow see near-perfectly in the dark," I pointed out.

"Like I don't know that?" she remarked with sarcasm.  "I've been fighting them for the past two decades, Nightstar.  And yeah, they see well in the dark, but even drow can't see though trees if you sit still."  

"So where do you want me to be?" I asked.

"Just pick a spot and sit there.  Don't attack or do a damned thing until you see the signal," she warned.

"And what is the signal?" I asked.

"You'll know it when you see it," she replied cryptically.

"And what happens if the drow try to cross the river somewhere other than where we are?" I wanted to know.  She laughed softly.

"Not going to happen.  This is the only place safe enough for miles.  Anywhere else and they have to deal with border patrols, watch towers, and natural hazards…or go so far out of their way that it'd be morning before they got near the Abbey."    I had one final question for her.

"And what if this is a trap…as it was the last time?"  I glanced down at her.  She shrugged, seemingly unconcerned.

"Understand this, kid," she said. "The drow of Cormanthyr have set up traps before…I'm used to them.  They've not caught me yet. And as for the keep, let's just say that another attempt like the last would be extremely inadvisable, as well as unattainable.  It won't happen again.  And a trap here just means that the drow think their plan is better than mine. I don't intend to fail…none of my men will fail…this here is our friends and our homes and we protect them.  You're here out of duty…and tonight, you're duty is to make certain that the drow don't get near the church, got it?"  And this woman was the same pick-pocket who'd robbed me?  Strange how much people can change in such a small span of time, isn't it?

"As you order," I replied.  She slipped away, reminding me of Lita in how she moved, blending in with the shadows and foliage until I could no longer discern where she was anymore.

A few moments later I heard the sound of flowing water, and saw the blackness of the river Ashaba through the trees.  There was no moon, and few stars to grant light, but with my vision, I could still see clearly enough to pick out a few of the men who'd come from Banshee keep, hiding themselves up in the trees, and down in the underbrush.  

I picked a position not too far from the water, behind a medium-sized boulder.  It gave me considerable cover, all the while affording me a clear view of the river, and the opposite side.  I had my weapon ready, and my spells as well, determined that no drow would escape my blade that night.

       We didn't have to wait long this time.  It wasn't long before midnight that I caught sight of the first shadow creeping across the river.  Now being that it is a river, after all, I would have expected that they cross with boats or something…at the very least, I expected them to try to cross the river by swimming, or walking across a low area.  The last thing I expected was for them to be walking across the water.  I saw first one, then another, then a few dozen more.  They were all walking on the surface of the water as though it were as solid as the ground, their boots making barely a ripple on the surface as they did so.  I recognized the spell being used, a spell called Waterwalk, and that was not what shocked me so.  It was the very idea of drow using magic on the surface that had me wondering.  Oh I know that Dazelin and Kalanas are both wizards, but as far as I know they were both born on the surface, away from traditional drowish societies.  That had to be the only excuse for their non-evil behavior…and I assumed it was the reason they were both able to wield magic, for I had always been told that with the drow, their true weakness is the sun.  The sun not only blinds their light sensitive eyes, but also destroys the things that their magic had wrought, like their armor and weapons…and spells.  This is something all of the People know as fact, for there is something about living underground that has always corrupted drow magic, making it near impossible to function normally on the surface…not so here.  So I wondered if the things I had been taught were false, or if something had changed, or if, perhaps there was something unique to this group of drow that allowed them to use their magic on the surface after all. Yet for all the topic had me interested and confused, I banished the idea from my mind, focusing all of my attention on the enemy, which were nearing our side of the river.

       My hands itched to cast a spell, or bring my blade up, but I did neither, knowing I had to wait for some mysterious signal.  

       I did not have to wait long.  By the time the first of the drow reached the southern shore of the river, the majority of the raiding party was halfway across.  A ball of light shot from the southern part of the forest, hitting the tightest grouping of dark elves.  The shape of it was that of a fireball, but with one subtle difference: this ball was made of lightning instead.  The scintillating sphere hit the water at the center of the drow, and exploded outward.  The drow in the immediate area were electrocuted, their water-walking enchantments faltering as they died and fell into the river.  The water conducted the lightning outward, causing it to arc across the water, and hit many other member of the raiding party.  A small portion of them fell into the river, but a heartbeat later surfaced, and began to swim for the shore…wounded but not dead.      

       The rest, realizing an attack was upon them, began to fall back to the far side of the river, as a silent retreat was called.  I knew our attack was on, when the hail of arrows came from the forest, cutting down several of the retreating drow, accompanied by the tell-tale scream of the "Banshee."

       There were still more than half of the drow left standing, mostly unharmed.  I refused to consider allowing any of them to escape, and so stepped forward to begin.  As I did, there came a roar from the far side of the river, and a fireball shot across, hitting the trees on our side.  I heard cries as several of the Banshee's men were engulfed by the flames.  I looked over to where it had come from, and saw a glimpse of a shadow through the trees.  I heard the ring of steel in the night, as the few drow who had made it to this shore attacked the forces of Banshee keep, determined, I suppose to kill as many as they could before they died.  

I, however, ignored the melee on this side of the river, and focused on the far side.  I used a spell to create a magical doorway before me.  Stepping through, it brought me the distance across, to the far side of the river, only a few dozen feet from where the dark elf caster stood, with several fighters.  They caught sight of me easily enough, for while the Dimension Door spell is effective, it is not particularly stealthy.  Several of the fighters rushed me, while the wizard continued casting.  I had a moment to throw up my sword in defense, as a uniform and complete darkness surrounded me.  All sound was suddenly muffled, and I could see nothing, though my eyes were wide open.  The first sword rang off mine, but as I swung about to where the drow had been, there was nothing.  A muffled sound to my left alerted me to danger…and just in time.  A sword thrust that would have killed me, piercing my heart, merely grazed off my ribs instead.  Painful, but not life threatening.  A second sword cut across my right shoulder, and I knew that I would not be able to fight effectively in the darkness.  Taking a chance, I plunged my sword into the ground at my feet and cast the fastest I have ever cast in my life, my hands flying through the motions of the spell.

The darkness vanished like mist in the sunlight as I Dispelled it.  My sword was back in my hand in a moment, as I swung hard at the dark elf who rearing back to strike once more.  He had apparently not been expecting the darkness to fall, nor for me to regain my vision, and he'd left himself open.  I took the shot, and did to him what he'd meant to do to me.  His blood joined my own in staining my tunic, as I cut him nearly in two with my swing.

I turned my attention to his fellow, hearing the sounds of footsteps, as the wizard ran.  Not wanting the caster to escape, I parried a few of my current opponent's attacks.   He was good, and for a long moment, I couldn't find an opening.  I had a split moment of time to think about the battle, and decided to be a little unorthodox.  After all, the drow fight dirty…why shouldn't I?  I stepped back a little, feigning a stumble.  The dark elf lunged forward to take the obvious attack.  I sidestepped him at the last moment, and tripped him.  He was only down for less than a breath, when he began to flip back up again…but in the fraction of a second when he gained his feet, still searching for his balance, I had him.  My sword came down, and his right arm, shoulder, and head were no longer attached to his body.  

Not pausing for a moment, I bolted off, in the direction the wizard had gone.  I may not be a ranger, but I am no novice at tracking, either, and the wizard had left a path plain for a blind orc to see, broken branches and disturbed foliage everywhere.

At the time I was chasing him, it never occurred to me that I might be running into a situation that was not ideal for only one fighter to be facing…nor did it occur to me that I was putting more and more distance between myself and my allies.  All I thought at the time was that I could not let even one of the drow escape.

I caught up with the wizard at the edge of a small bog.  The stench was quite unpleasant, and the ground beneath me feet grew muddy, beginning to suck at my boots.  The wizard almost seemed to be waiting for me as I approached.  Only as a small volley of crossbow bolts shot at me from the sides, did I realize that the wizard was no longer alone.  Two hit me, one in the side, the other in my upper right arm.  Both were painful and I could feel the bite of poison, but the counter potion already running though my body kept anything from affecting me.

I dropped one hand from my sword, and flicked my fingers through the motions of a simple spell: Light.  The small area we were in lit up as though I'd lit a bright torch, illuminating the area.  Though it slowed them for a minute, the light did not quite have the effect I'd intended…but I suppose I should have anticipated that, seeing as these drow have most likely been on the surface for sometime now.

       Still, I was able to enter combat with the fighters, whom I could see illuminated against the trees, while the wizard wasted precious seconds dispelling my magic.

       I imagine that the battle might well have gone downhill from there…or that I might have raged and trusted on my greater strength and faster reactions to save me, but as it turned out, the drow had chosen a poor spot for a battle, as there was something else there…something that apparently did not like being disturbed.

       As the three dark elven fighters and I were exchanging wounds, there was a sudden and sharp cry of pain from where the wizard was.  At first, no one turned or looked.  I was too intent on staying alive, while being outnumbered by three better than average sword fighters, and they were far too busy trying kill me.  Another moment later, and there was second cry of pain, suddenly and roughly cut off, with a sound of cracking bones, like twigs snapping.

       The stench of rotting vegetation suddenly intensified greatly, to the point that it was causing both I and my opponents to gag.  Then, a vine, as thick as my forearm suddenly wrapped around the throat of one of the dark elves I was fighting and jerked him back.  It was enough to make us stop fighting long enough to turn and look.  What I saw was…unpleasant to say the least.           

       At the edge of the bog, a mound of rotting, sticking vegatation and leave rose up, dripping water, mud and filth. It rapidly grew until it was over ten feet in height, with thick tendrils of vines coming from it "torso," an indentation near the top of it, at what might have been some form of "head." One of the vines was wrapped around the corpse of the wizard, whose arms and head weretwisted at unnatural angles.  A second vine was steady constricting tighter around the neck of the drow fighter, whose was kicking and clawing at the vine…to no avail. It only took a few seconds for his struggles to grow weaker, and then cease suddenly as another snapping noise filled the night air…his neck suddenly at a right angle to the rest of his body.  The creature lurched up a bit, coming out of the bog as it moved towards the rest of us…even as we, fighting forgotten, backed away.  

       Thinking to stop the shambling mound of a monster, I began to cast.  A moment later, a bolt of lightning shot from my fingers, striking the thing squarely.  The bolt did not even slow it.

       Then it was too late.  The rest of the vine tentacles shot forward at us with the speed of an arrow.  I was grabbed about the waster, and dragged backwards, towards the thing, along with the two drow.  It began tightening about me, constricting, and squeezing the breath from me…but my hands were still free.  I swung my sword, hacking at it, not about to give up without a fight.  Apparently the drow had similar ideas, for they two were struggling, even as the vines pulled tighter about us.  

       Bits of dead plants and mud flew everywhere.  I actually seemed to be damaging it with my attacks…but not fast enough.  I hacked a large chunk off the top, now being held over six feet off the ground as the creature wrapped another vine around me.  I felt my ribs cracking, and it was getting very hard to breath.  A glance over, revealed that only one of the drow was still moving, the other limp in the creature's grasp, bent nearly in half, his back broken.  

       I continued chopping at the thing for what seemed like forever, when finally, I felt the deathly hold it had on me loosen.  As it "died" it fell, and from the height I was at, I fell with it, landing hard on my back.  I looked up in time to see the huge mass of decay and rot falling forward…right on top of me.  It with the force of a boulder being dropped from a like distance.  I was completely covered by the suffocating matter, and started to try to claw my way out…but moving was hard, and I was disoriented…I was no longer certain which way _was out.  _

       Just as I was growing light-headed from the lack of air, and thinking angrily, about what ignomious way this way to die, I felt something grab my shoulders, and start dragging my out.

       By the time my rescuer had pulled me out of the refuse-heap of a monster, I could hardly breath, and darkness was edging in on my vision.  I must have been hallucinating, for I could swear I saw an elven woman standing over me.  She had tanned skin, and green hair and eyes.  She wore next to nothing, and yet though she might well have been sylvan elf, I did not think she was…there was something about her that was fey and strange…even for an elf.

       "Nasty, awful, rotting, thing," I heard her mutter in the language of the forest.  I speak that language, albeit not very well, for it had been a long time and I am out of practice.  She looked down at me, and smiled prettily.

       " Fear not," she said.  "Safe now.  Good that you killed it.  Saved my tree so I saved you.  Others coming now, so I go," was what I understood her to be saying.

       "The drow?" I wheezed.  She wrinkled her nose.

       "Dead…like the shambler.  All dead now.  Bad evil elves," she shook her head.  "Friends come, I go now," she told me once more.  She moved from field of vision, and was gone, leaving me wondering what had just happened.  It didn't occur to me until later that what the girl had been was no elf, but a dryad…the comment about her tree leading me to think so.  Dryads are fey creatures, they resemble elves superficially, but are bound for all time to their trees, for which they will fight to the death to protect.

       Just I had managed to catch much breath as well as I could with cracked and possibly broken ribs, and started to sit up, several people burst into the clearing.  I moved to draw my sword up, but saw quickly enough that they were soldiers from Banshee keep, and lowered it once more.  

       Two of them helped me up, while a third, an elf whistled at the destruction and bodies.

       "Well done!" he said.  "Not many that I know of could have handled a Shambler of this size and drow at the same time, and lived to tell the tale!"  He seemed impressed.  I shrugged.  After all, the Shambler, as both the dryad and the elf called it, had killed the drow.  I'd only really killed it.

       "Guess I'm just lucky," I told him.  He chuckled.

       "You surely must be."  One of the ones who'd helped me up commented that we had to get back to the others and regroup.

       When we got back, we found that the battle was over.  A goodly number of the dark elves had been killed, and Dazelin and Rain were in the process of interrogating one that had been kept alive for questioning.

       When they finished, Rain came over to the assembled group of us…many who were wounded.  She told us that counting numbers, we'd killed all but five of the raiding party, with only two casualties on our side. She congratulated everyone on a successful battle, adding that she thought we had to be some of the best fighters in the dalelands to have triumphed so well.

       One of the soldiers replied that it was only because they followed her that they were so good.  All in all it was a rather nauseating display of loyalty…but at the same time, it was also inspiring, I suppose.  After all, the Banshee was right about one thing…not many groups of soldiers anywhere could have fared so well against the drow, notorious for their fighting skills.

After the battle was through, Dazelin teleported us back to Banshee keep in time to see the dawn rays of the sun lighting up the night sky.  He informed Rain that he was far too tired to be concerned with sending me back to Everall, and that I could just wait until tomorrow to return.  

I was so tired from sneaking about the woods and the battle through the trees that I didn't even bother to argue with him.  Merely followed the direction of the Banshee's pointed finger towards a place I could rest.

Before I could lay down, however, the inhabitants of Banshee keep descended upon us.  Healers began moving about, doing their work.  While the cooks brought out food for everyone to eat.  I was rather tired and would have liked to decline all and just rest, but I was quickly told I wasn't going anywhere until I had a healer do something about my wounds…hardly the worst I have ever received I might ask.

This time it was not the farmer-priest, nor was it half orc who healed me.  While they were busy healing others who were wounded far worse than I, a young girl whom I recalled having seen before, the last time I was here, approached.  She had shoulder-length brown hair, and elven shaped green eyes. Her features were a mix of the Banshee's and the farmer-priest's…another of their offspring, no doubt.  This one was older than my student, Jaelen, but younger than the other boy, Gully.  I would guess her age at sixteen or so, but despite her youth, she moved with a strange surety and an eerie calmness about her.  She wore simple robes that had been dyed various shades of gray and blue, reminding me of water.  Around her neck was a holy symbol that was not familiar to me; a symbol of waterfall plunging into a still pool.

"May I tend your wounds?" she asked me a voice that seemed to radiate stillness and peace.

"If you want," I shrugged.  I wasn't certain how much she'd be able to do, as she couldn't have been much more than a novice priest.  She smiled at me, looking, at that moment, very much like the Banshee.

"Thank you.  I'm Emiliana Hawklight, a novice druid of Eldath.  I just gained my first spells a week ago," she told me, proudly.  I didn't mind being treated by novice…being a teacher, one has to get used to being "practiced on," or so I've noticed after working at Everall.

"Who is Eldath?" I asked, less out of curiosity, and more out a need to keep talking, lest I fall into reverie on the spot.  I'm always so tired after a battle…even when I don't rage!  

As she cleaned, tended, and finally healed my wounds as best she could, she explained to me that Eldath was a human goddess of calmness, guardian of still groves and quiet places, and pacifism.  Basically, a goddess of all things Tempus is not.  Not really a very interesting goddess, I suppose, but still a necessary one.  After all without peace, no one would no what war was, right?

The little druid girl, whom I learned is the second born child of Rain and her husband, finally declared I was fit enough to go rest if wanted.  I left immediately for the room where Rain had told me I could rest, and I was in reverie before my head even hit the pillow.


	18. Chapter 17

Sorry that it has been a while, but I was on vacation in Vermont, and had no TV, let alone a computer.  I apologize for how short this chapter is, and that it is mostly more romantic mush.  I'm not very good at writing this sort of thing, but as I have decided it must be done, so I must trudge through the writing of it.  I promise the whole Rosealliele/Keledrial thing will be resolved in the next chapter after this, and then I'll be able to move on to the big adventure coming up.  Back to Ruathym.  You'll see!  Until then, enjoy as best you can, and don't give up!  

To Arabwel, Aquila, Catspaw0913, Crazefanficboi, Raelli, and Silverwolf, thank you again for all your reviews and feedback. Don't stop!  Azurielle    

I was awoken some time later by the smell of clean water and soap, and the sound of female footsteps on the floorboards of the room I had finally collapsed in.  I cracked my eyes open, glancing up to the small window set in the wall, and confirming that it was nearing night, once more.  I had slept through most of the day.  My muscles ached, but in a good way…letting me know that I had lost none of my skill in battle.  

I opened my eyes fully, and made out the form of a human woman, opening baskets in the room to reveal the light of magical torches.  A tub of hot water stood near the foot of the bed I had laid down on.

"I've brought you a bath, milord," the woman told me.

"I see that," I replied, sitting up and stretching. 

"Shall I help you with washing?" she asked me, and I now recognized the coy tone of her voice…one that both human and elven women seem capable of affecting.  I looked over to where she stood.  She was smiling prettily, and I noticed that the bodice of her gown was pulled rather low, so that a generous amount of her breasts were showing over the top.  Her brown hair was long and loose, and she was quite attractive.  

"If you wish," I told her, sounded unconcerned.  I knew what she was after, and figured, why not?  It wasn't like Rosealliele would know, and after all I have gone so long without having sex she couldn't really blame me.  

The girl helped me out of my clothing, most of which was stained and ruined.  I would have to buy some more when I got back to Everall…or maybe I could get some of Lyly's students to make me some…they were all weaving, cooking, and sewing types, anyhow.

I got into the tub, and the wench began to "help" me wash.  In reality, she was using the opportunity to run her hands all over my skin, all the while giving me a generous view of her own smooth flesh.  I played the game as I was expected to, but when she gave up on pretenses and started to kiss me, the most unusual thing happened….I found that I was not at all aroused by it!

In fact, as I attempted to force myself to enjoy her attentions, all I could think about was Rose…and how hurt she would most likely be if she knew what I was doing…and how much nicer it was to kiss her, and how much softer her skin and hair were, compared to this girl's.  

I tried…I truly did, but the fact is I simply could not evince enough interest to continue.  I wanted Rosealliele.  It was as simple as that.  So I pushed the human wench away from me.  She gave me a confused look.

"Do I not please you?" she asked me, sounding hurt.  I pulled on a robe that she had brought and left on my bed, feeling uncomfortable letting her see me naked any longer.

"It's not you," I explained to her, in an apologetic tone.  "It's just that I love someone else, and I…" I stopped mid-sentence.  Had I actually just said that?  I sat there for a moment in mute shock, unable to comprehend that those words had come out of my mouth.  I think the girl said something to me, but what it was, I am not certain.  A moment later, she gathered up her clothes, and my dirty ones as well and left, shutting the door a little more harshly than was necessary.

I'm not certain how long I sat there, at the edge of the bed, my mind replaying the entire scene, trying to comprehend if I had said such a thing, and when I finally accepted that I had, trying to figure why.

I hadn't really meant it, I thought for a while.  After all, me?  In love?  It made no sense!  Especially considering I don't really believe in love.  I was obsessed, yes, but not in love.  But then, if it was an obsession, why hadn't I been able to sleep with the human girl? After all I could have kept my eyes closed, and imagined that she was Rose, right?  But somehow, even just thinking such a think seemed wrong.  Then I thought that if I could just make love to Rose that the whole obsession would go away, and I could go back to being normal.  That's when I realized I was thinking about sex with Rose in terms that I had never considered for any other woman in my life.

It was several hours of mental arguing later that I was finally able to admit to myself that I was, indeed, falling in love with Rosealliele Silverspear, for some reason.  And then I tried to figure out why.  Why when I was so against the very idea, was I being foolish enough to have done such a thing?  Of course, it wasn't like it was a rational decision on my part.  And then it hit me….this was all about revenge.  

After all, when I insulted Erevan Ilesere, the god of trickery, hadn't the very thing I had been worried about: Zelairwyn learning the truth, happened within the week?  With Hanali Celanil, I had spoken derisively about the goddess of love on more than one occasion.  The gods have never been adverse to meddling in the affairs of the mortals...and I wondering if I had not insulted love just one time too many for Hanali to tolerate.

 Such a reason would explain my sudden fascination, and ultimate obsession with an etriel I'd never met before, wouldn't it?  And my first thought was that there had to be a way to thwart the goddess' interference in my life.  My second thought, however, was did I really want to?  After all if she'd done this much, how much worse would it get if I tried to fight the goddess' will?  And really, I began to think, what was so bad about loving Rose?  Except, of course, for that fact that she was being so difficult about our relationship as it was.  I mean, she's a nice person…got a bit of a temper, but that's certainly not something _I can hold against anyone.  She loyal, both to her family, and her friends…and her betrothed.  After all, it has taken me a great deal of effort to get her this far. She's chaste...definitely not one of the women I know who sleeps with anyone.  And furthermore, she and Sera get along wonderfully.  Weren't all those the things I had stipulated for a woman I could learn to care about?_

       The truth was, I finally admitted to myself, that Rosealliele was all that I had wanted in a woman.  The only problems with the whole affair was our stubborn natures, and unwanted betrotheds.

       Not that the latter was much of problem, truth to be told. I care less than nothing for the damned Moonflower girl, and besides, if I broke with her no one would be that shocked.  Barbarian that I am, they're probably expecting it.  Rose may be a bit of a problem though.  She's so bound and determined to please her family, that she may dig her heels in. And while the Nightstars can weather the trouble that would be caused by what I would do, I am not so certain of the Silverspears.  Ancient house though they are, only a handful of their numbers escaped the fall of Myth Drannor.  Rose is one of the only children left of that line.  A union with the abnormally "fertile" Amarillis clan would certainly be beneficial…both in terms of status and the continuance of the line.  A union between Rose and myself would only cause trouble for the Silverspears.  They'd never agree to it…and if her family didn't agree, I doubted that Rose would either.  

       Well, the truth is, I do not care for backing away from challenges. And seeing as I know that neither family would agree to the plan that has begun to form in my mind, I shall simply have to proceed without approval.  After all, now that I have decided that I'm not going to fight this attraction anymore, there is no one that I'm going to let a damned Amarillis wed the woman I'm falling in love with!

       At some point, another maid brought me a fresh set of clothes.  They were human in style, but I was not surprised.  I doubted they would have found anything of elven make in my size.  I donned the garments quickly, and made my way downstairs, to the Great Hall.  I made it just in time for dinner, as a huge human woman waddled out of the kitchen and began placing huge trays of food onto a side table.  Much like Everall, and unlike Evermeet, everyone got up from their tables, forming a line and serving themselves.  Even the Banshee and her husband, the "Lord" and "Lady" of the keep stood in line, alongside of the soldiers, and servants…all laughing and talking.  It was as unlike a meal in House Nightstar…or any other elven noble home, as elven wine is to dwarven ale.  Yet, somehow, it seemed more agreeable to me.  More honest.  Here, as in Everall, no one tried to place themselves above another.  

       I stepped in line, and piled my plate up, feeling ravenously hungry…not unusual after a battle and long rest. I was called over to the table where the Banshee was seated with her friends and family.  Dinner was a loud affair, conversations and renditions of the battle flying back and forth.  Some of the Banshee's younger children seemed to find me fascinating and pestered me with questions.  I can't figure out why it is that children seem to find me so interesting, and feel the need to fixate upon me.  I'm not even that fond of children…besides Sera, of course.  And my siblings.  Children, as whole, however, are too small for me to be truly comfortable with.

       The camaraderie I saw was warm and well established.  It was how I was beginning to feel with some of the people at Everall…and how I never felt with most of my old party members from Waterdeep, or the elven soldiers on Evermeet.

       Shortly after the meal ended, the Banshee approached me, one of her red-haired, infant sons on her hip.

       "You did well," she told me.  I thanked her.  She seemed to think about something for a moment, then sighed, even as the child in her arms stared up at me with such intensity, I felt uncomfortable.  I hate it when babies give me that expression which makes me think they know all my secrets.

       "I should apologize to you…for doubting your skills, and for my rude behavior."  I raised an eyebrow at this.  True, she had been rude, but no more than I. 

       "I misjudged you," The Banshee continued on, looking as though it was paining her to admit such a thing.  "I don't have the greatest opinion of nobles, you see…" several people near enough to hear this, snorted, trying to contain laughter.  A glare from the Banshee, and they quieted down.  

       "…And well, I just thought I should say that you're welcome here, at the Keep, or at the tower."  I wasn't certain what to say.  After all, welcome is something that I have rarely felt in my life.  It was odd to have it now. The Banshee seemed rather uncomfortable with the situation, so she changed the subject before I was obligated to come up with a reply.

       "Well, anyhow, I'm sure you want to be getting back to your school and all, so if you want, I'll have Dazelin teleport you back to Hap."  I nodded agreeably.  Nice as it is here, I wanted to get back to Everall.  Duties were getting neglected, Sera was probably working herself into a tantrum, and there were things…important things I had to discuss with Rosealliele, after all.

       The dark elf teleported me back to Hap, with only a few cutting remarks exchanged.  I thought I handled myself admirably, as I did not bother to be insulted.  Although, I swear, when I get some time I am going to research the damned teleport spell myself, so that next time, I will not have to deal with the overly sarcastic drow again.

       Not only was Sera not upset at my sudden disappearance, she did not even bother to act concerned when I finally located her.  She was in the nursery of Liralyn's younger children, playing with the baby.  She glanced up when I entered.

       "Oh, Hi Daddy," she said briefly, then turned her attention back to the infant…whose name escaped me.  I waited for a moment, further elaboration…to be scolded at the very least for leaving without telling her.  Nothing.  What a contentious little creature.

       "I'm back," I told her, seeing if that would bring a reaction.  She merely nodded.

       "Un-huh," she muttered.  I sighed.  On the bright side, at least she was screaming at me…but it was rather disheartening, as it appeared she hadn't even missed me.  I was about to leave, when Sera's voice stopped me.  

       "Daddy, I want to talk."  I didn't like the tone…it was far too serious sounding for a child of her age.  I looked back, saw that she was staring up at me intently.  

       "All right.  What do you want to talk about?" I asked her, lowering myself to the floor so that I would be closer to her eye level.

       "Daddy I think you're being mean," she declared.

       "Why do you think I'm being mean?" I asked her incredulously.

       "It was very nice of you to leave Rose so that you could go and have fun."

       "Have fun?"  I repeated.  "Sera I was fighting people who were trying to attack a church!" I exclaimed.

       "Even so.  It wasn't nice," Sera insisted.  "What if you go away too long and she decides she doesn't want us?"

       "What is it that you mean, Sera," I asked my daughter suspiciously.

       "I think its time you got married, Daddy," Sera told me in a voice that sounded as though it belonged to someone much older…far too serious for my liking. Come to think of it, ever since she's starting accompanying her little dwarven friend around, Sera has begun acting more and more grown up, and less like the little girl she had been when we arrived here.  I am not certain that I like the change.  

       "What?" I managed to get out.

       "My friend Rina says that all girls need mothers 'specially when they get older.  You're a good Daddy, but I decided that I need a mother too.  And I want Rose.  So you have to be real nice to Rose so that she'll marry you when you ask her too, all right Daddy?"  I was so flabbergasted I had no idea how to reply.  What a presumptuous brat I had raised!  She decided?!  As though I had no say in the matter!  And for Sera, all of this was merely a foregone conclusion!  And she sat there calmly, waiting for an answer…as calmly as though she just asked me for a cookie as was certain that one was forthcoming!

       When I didn't reply, Sera frowned for a moment, and then smiled brightly.

       "I love you, Daddy," she beamed at me.  

       "And I love you as well," I replied automatically.  She nodded.

       "Good.  Then it's all settled.  You ask Rose to marry you, and I'll have a Mommy, and we'll be a family," she stated conclusively, as she stood up, handed me the baby, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and ran out, saying over her shoulder,

       "I'm going to tell Rina!  I'll be back later!"

       I sat there on the floor on the nursery for a few more stunned minutes.  The baby in my hands squirmed for a few moments, looking up at me with wide green eyes.  There was an expression of confusion on his face, and after a moment or two of continued struggling, he began to cry.  

       "You and me both," I murmured to him in sympathy, rocking him in my arms as I had once done with Sera, thinking that my life was certainly a terrible tangle of a mess, and I wondered if I would survive long enough to sort it all out.

       I didn't get a chance to see Rose until late the next afternoon, after being forced to give a report to my cousin over my whereabouts, and then having to deal with my students, who of course, all had to here details.  Not that I was completely truthful, after all they didn't need to know that I had been rescued by a dryad, or that I probably would have suffocated to death.

       When I finally did get around to speaking with Rose, things did not go nearly as well as I'd been planning.  I'd hoped that my short absence would further improve her disposition.  After all, while I may decide that the possibility that I love her does exist, it had lessened my desire to sleep with by any degree.

       However, what I expected and what actually happened were two different things.

       "Keledrial, we can't do this," was the very first thing she said to me when I finally managed to track her down around lunchtime.

       "Do what?" I asked, right before kissing her.  She pulled away a moment later…reluctantly, I was pleased to note.

       "This!  You and I…it's wrong.  We have obligations…promises to be kept," she gestured wildly.

       "Not this again," I groaned.  I cannot understand why she feels the need to continue this senseless protesting…and I told her just that.  Mayhap I should have worded it a bit better than I did though, for the minute I said so, her face flushed with anger, violet eyes sharp with it as well.  

       "You may think me "senseless"," Lord Nightstar, but at least I have every intention of keeping my promise, which is certainly more than I can say for you!" she stated, with clenched fists.  I must say that I do like watching her with heightened emotions…like anger.  She looks even lovelier than she does when she's calm.

       "Actually, Lady Silverspear," I told her in a conversational tone, relishing in being the calm one for once, "I never promised to wed anyone…least of all Loreleiana Moonflower.  It was all arranged without my knowledge or consent, and as such I feel no need to keep a vow I never made."

       "Oh why are you doing this to me?" Rose asked, more to her self than me, I think.  

       "Doing what?" I asked her, playing ignorant.  Not very hard for me, in some cases, I might add.

       "Trying to…seduce me!" She exclaimed.

       "Is that what I'm doing?" I baited her.

       "Yes!  And I don't know why!  There are plenty of other women you might set your sights on…ones who aren't betrothed.  Why are you doing this to **me**?" She whispered towards the end, suddenly realizing that her voice was rising.  Thinking to stir things up a bit, and see what would happen, I told the truth.

       "Mostly because I can't seem to stop thinking about you…and because I don't feel any desire for anyone other than you… oh yes, and because I may just be falling in love with you," I leaned very close and spoke very quietly to tell her the last part.  The last thing I need is for someone, like Bran, to overhear us and have it spread about the school that the elven history and smithing teacher was in love with the elven teacher of protection magic.

       Rose's silvery skin turned all but white at that.  Not quite the reaction I was imagining.

       "You…you don't really mean that," she stated.

       "Don't I?" I replied.  

       "Even if you did…why would you…but after all this time…and…but you can't," she concluded, her eyes pleading with me as she finished her momentary rambling.

       "Why can't I?"  

       "You're going to ruin everything…you already have," she whispered, and I became aware of a glassy sheen in her eyes that bespoke the coming onset of tears.

       "What have I ruined?  What could be bad about my loving you?" I asked, making my tone gentler, and less smug.

       "I promised to marry Evyth Amarillis…I promised and that's all there is to it.  I gave up on you a long time ago," she added the last bit so silently that I almost missed it.  Before I could ask just what she had meant by that, she flared to anger again.

       "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but it ends now.  I will not let you ruin all my plans just because you've found yourself…"obsessed" with me," she threw my own words back at me…words I had used to describe what I felt for her for so long.  Before I could say another word, or even think to stop her, she said a Word, activating the magic in a bracelet she wore, and she promptly vanished.  Teleported.  By the gods, I truly need to learn that spell…if nothing else, so that I can counter it!

       "But I'm not playing a game," I said aloud to the emptiness before me.  

       Now what am I to do?  There has to be a way to get her to believe me, and giver up on her stupid betrothal, as I've basically given up on mine.  At this rate I just may have to kill Evyth Amarillis, if for no other reason so that she will no longer be able to use him as an excuse…although if I did that, she would probably hate me, and I would no doubt be exiled for true.  I vow, sometimes things were easier when I was Airk.  At least then I didn't have to think before I acted so often!

       I'm pretty much out of ideas at this point.  Nothing I've tried has worked, seeing as the fair Rose is being so damned intractable about this.  She rebuffs me at every turn…won't even speak to me half the time.  I don't know what to say to convince her I'm telling the truth about loving her…nor can I understand why my being in love with her seems to be so upsetting to her.  I just don't know what to do…not like that's a new thing anyhow.  Why is it that I always seem to make a mess of the things I most care about?  Maybe I should just give up.  After all, if she's this determined, maybe she really doesn't feel the same.  Maybe that is Hanali's curse on me after all…that I should learn to love a woman who does not bear the same affection for me.  

       I wonder if I shall survive this?  In all the old stories, when one of the People falls in love and it is not returned, they often go mad…well I'm already half-mad anyhow.  More often than that, though, they go to Arvandyr rather than try to live without their other half.  Well, I don't really feel like dying yet, but I can say, with certainty that I've been quite miserable in the months since the battle with the dark elves.

       Then, of course, there is the final end in all of the stories…in some of the tales, where the person does not go mad, or die, they turn on their loved one with a vengeance…killing and wreaking havoc in their other's life over the rejection.  But while I could, at this point, cheerfully murder Evyth Amarillis, I don't think I could ever do that to Rosealliele.

       Thus I am stuck.  Maybe if Tobias or Sylthas were here they could give me some advice…but of my fellows at the school, none of them are what I would call "Ladies' men."  Especially not Bran, who is full of the sort of advice that I should get her drunk and sleep with her so that she'll realize how much she wants me.  Hah.  If I did anything like that I am quite certain that Rose would curse me within an inch of my life, or polymorph me into a toad or something.  Besides, I've had my fill of forcing women to sleep with me…a long time ago. 

And of course Sera is not helping at all with her incessant whining and crying that I'm being cruel.  Nor does it help that just about everyone seems to know what's happening, and I keep getting these knowing looks that are really starting to irritate.  Even Zelairwyn, the little brat, asked me the other day whether or not Rose had said yes yet.  Naturally he asked in the middle of a mock combat, and I was annoyed at his impertinence that I dropped my guard long enough for him to hit me in the side with his blade.  He wasn't quite so smug a few moments later when he was lying on his back in the dust, gasping for the air I'd knocked out of his lungs. That would show him to think he could beat me with such cheating tactics.

Maybe I'll just let things rest for a while.  I really don't know what else to do.  And I thought it would all be so easy.  What a fool I am.  At this rate, I think I shall never be anything but a fool, and that thought is truly dismal.   

Now, I didn't intend to eavesdrop, I swear.  The fact of the matter is that I couldn't seem to find my reverie this night…not that that is a new occurrence, as of late.  I was getting tired of attempting to puzzle my way through a book of dwarven history…the dwarven language is so hard to learn, and their history is incredibly dry and boring, and so decided that a journey to the kitchens was necessary.  

I'd hoped that eating might distract my mind and the reading had not.  I still find myself unable to stop thinking about her and what…if anything I could do to convince her that I mean the truth.  It gnaws at me.  Truly, I do admire her continued loyalty to her family and her vow, but I still cannot understand why she continues to insist that she will wed an elf she has never even met, rather than at least attempt a relationship with me, for whom I know she feels something…maybe not love, but definitely more than she could feel for a stranger.

        The very thought of Evyth Amarillis kissing Rose…holding her as I have, and loving her as I ache to…it makes me ill and more than that…angry!  I can't allow this to happen, I really cannot.  I love her. I've managed to accept that she is the one woman in the world I want, who is meant for me and its driving me insane to think that she might give up what we might have, all for the sake of accursed duty!

       In any case, I went to the kitchens, and in the pantry I located half of a cake that had been left over from dessert.  I helped myself to a fair-sized chunk of it and was on my way back to my room when I heard voices.  Since they were between my destination, and me I moved a little closer to see what was going on.

       My plate of cake in hand, I peered into the small courtyard that stood between me and the kitchen and the door to the house.  The kitchen is actually connected to the house by way of a hall, but the cook sleeps down there and if she found out that I was rummaging in the kitchen without her permission, she'd be serving my head on a platter for dinner tomorrow.

       At the half-full, the light of Selune was more than enough for me to see clearly…and their whispered voices carried equally as well in the still silence of the courtyard.

       My cousin Liralyn was dressed in a thin, white night dress, the curves of her body readily visible in the moon's light.  Not long ago the sight of any woman so attired would most certainly have been arousing, but not so now…not since Rose has driven all thoughts of others from my mind.

       Before Liralyn, wearing a robe and loose breeches was Kalanas.  They both seemed agitated; upset.  Their gestures and whispers indicative of some sort of argument.  Now intensely curious, I crept a wee bit closer to hear what they were saying, gripping my plate tightly.

       "I love you…you know that.  You've always known that.  Why can't that be enough?" I heard Liralyn say to him in a shaky sounding whisper.

       "Because I want more than that," Kalanas replied.  

       "I can't give any more," Liralyn told him.

       "Why not?" Kalanas asked, sounding angry, raking his dark hands through bone-white hair.

       "If it were just me, I would wed you in a moment…but I have to think of my children," Liralyn protested, even as I tried to wrap my thoughts around the idea of a dark elf wishing to wed a gold elf…and vice versa.

       "Your children," I heard him repeat, the anger still evident in his voice. It sounded strange to me, seeing as even during all my fights with his brother, I'd never heard him take a tone like this.  

       "They certainly are you're favorite excuse," he continued, crossing his arms over his chest.  "Especially considering every child you've born since Rhylaun, and every lover you've taken has been another attempt to push me away."  He sounded hurt…furious.  But if what he'd said was true, even I couldn't blame him.  

       "Can't you see that it wouldn't work?  Not in the conventional sense?" she asked him, ignoring his previous statement, leading me to think that his words probably had been true.  He certainly has more patience that I give him credit for.  If it had been me, and she had been Rose, I don't think that I could have stood by and allowed her to even attempt pushing me away in such a manner.  Although, isn't that, in a way, exactly what she is doing with her thrice-damned betrothed?

       "Some times love isn't enough," Liralyn tried to explain herself.  "I watched my mother spend her life chasing a dream.  She abandoned everyone and everything she ever cared about for the sake of love!  Her music…her home...her family…her own children… I can't do that to my children, not matter the reason behind their births!"

       "I'm not asking you to give up anything!" he retorted.  

       "But you are!  Marrying you would cause an uproar among the People.  It's never been done!  We'd be ostracized.  My children would be ostracized!  Their fathers could try to take them from me.  The Queen might try to take Zelairwyn away!" she held her hands out in a pleading fashion to him.  I suppose I could understand her logic.  And she was right…such a union **would** cause an uproar.  If nothing else, I am certain that most if the elven children here would be pulled from the school faster than I could say "insane headmistress."

       "And what of your ideals?  The reason for this school?  Equality…cooperation…acceptance.  Or are those ideals only for select races? I'm good enough to be a teacher here, to be your lover and the father of your child, but not your husband?" he demanded.

       "You're asking me to do what has not been done since before the Crown Wars!" she exclaimed.

       "I'm asking your practice what you preach!" he barely refrained from shouting.  She did not reply.  He sighed.

       "Fine Liralyn.  Hide what you feel for me, as you force me to do the same.  Make our love like some dirty secret to be hidden if you choose.  Hold onto the old ways of your people that dictate that like should only be with like.  Wed some proper gold elf…but do not expect me to stay and watch any longer.  And do not think that I will allow you to harm Rhylaun with your hypocritical beliefs any longer.  I won't have him come to think that he is equal with the rest of his elven siblings and classmates when, apparently, he is nothing more than a drow, like his father…a sin of birth that is, apparently, unforgivable.   Better he should be raised in a dark elf society that he might learn his "place" in the world," Kalanas stated harshly, almost cruelly.  I don't suppose I can blame him, no matter what my feelings on dark elves are.  Still, if he thought fighting millennia of hatred was going to be easy, I say he is a fool.  Liralyn began to cry, sinking slowly to the ground.

       "That's not what I meant…that's not what I think," he sobbed.  "Please…don't go…don't take Rhylaun away from me," she pleaded, almost incomprehensible through her tears.  Gods I detest crying.  No matter the argument or reason, when a woman or a child cries, it makes one feel as though they are the lowest of the low for causing it.  I can say that I know this from experience.  

       I heard Kalanas sigh again, as he dropped to his knees to hold my cousin in his arms.  I thought I heard him whisper that he was sorry and that he hadn't mean it, that he wouldn't leave.

       At that point I was beginning to feel very uncomfortable, and rather guilty for having listened in on such a personal conversation.  And yet having heard it, I felt that it put my situation with Rose in stark perspective.  All that stands between us is our families' expectations, her stubborn nature, which I am beginning to fear may be more than a match for my own, and two people whom neither of us love.  

         Kalanas and Liralyn must fight the hatred and prejudice of a race that has persisted well over 10 millennia.  Put in that light, I know I'll try at least one more time…fight yet another battle for Rose.  After all if a dark elf can fight the distrust of the world for the woman he loves, can I do less?

            So I returned to the kitchen and ate my cake there, in the darkness, waiting for them to leave and praying that the cook didn't wake and discover my presence.  Somehow, though, I wasn't really hungry anymore.  


	19. Chapter 18

I wrote this next part as quickly as I could, trying to get it over with.  I'm not very good at writing romantic stuff, and writing from Keledrial's point of view is even more difficult.  Still, here it is.  Note that there hints and partial descriptions of sex in this chapter, so keep in mind that while it is not incredibly graphic, they will happen and this story is rated R for a reason.  I will continue to get the chapters up as fast as I type them.  Enjoy.  

To Arabwel, Aquila, Catspaw0913, Crazefanficboi, Raelli, and Silverwolf, thanks again!  Azurielle    

It would be yet another month before I had another chance to speak with her. I had been working out what I wanted to say for all that time.  This, I swore to myself, would be the last time.  If she could tell me that she didn't love me, that would be it, no matter what I may feel.  If she doesn't love me then I know I truly have been cursed by Hanali…and I've no idea what I will do after that.  It was finding the proper time, place and courage to confront Rose that was the current problem.

       When the opportunity appeared, though, it came so suddenly that I was prepared…and all the things I had meant to say flew out of my head in an instant.

       I hadn't been able to take reverie for some time now.  I found no rest in it.  So I had begun taking walks out in the forest, near the Sunstar home.  I had managed to figure out the maze and all the various hindrances surrounding the area...including which creatures were real, which were not, and which were best avoided.  Thus I was rarely bothered, and didn't have to worry about getting lost.

       That night, I wandered close to the edge of the school.  I could see lights in the windows of the buildings…more in the teachers' apartments, but no small few in the students' dormitories, either.  The latter were not supposed to be there, of course, but it was hard to enforce such rules, as I understand it.

       I turned away from the school and headed back into the forest.  I wandered without purpose, enjoying the night as best I could.  When I found myself back near the pool where once I had listened Mallorn tell his story, I half expected to see my cousin appear from the shadows of the forest.  It was not Mallorn who did the appearing however.  I suppose in a manner of speaking, I was the one who appeared, for the grove was not empty.  I wasn't trying to be particularly quiet, thus I am not surprised that the figure standing by the water, looking down at the still reflection, turned fractionally to look as me.

       "Oh…it's you," I heard the one person whom I most wished to see and speak with say so softly I almost didn't hear her.  She turned back to the pool, her shoulders heaving with a sigh.

       "Please go away, Lord Nightstar," she told me.  For a moment I didn't reply…and in that moment I was thinking: here is my chance.

       "I want to talk with you, Rose," I finally replied.

       "I don't.  I'm tired of talking.  And whatever you have to say…it will not change anything," she remained focused on the water.  My nice, clever speech…the one I had been preparing for weeks flew out of my thoughts.  I couldn't think of anything to tell her, but the one thing I most meant and felt in that moment…but I wasn't about to say it to the back of her head.                     

"Rose," I grabbed her arms, and turned her to face me.  "I am not going to give up…I love you.  Doesn't that mean anything to you?"  Rose would not meet my eyes, her soft black hair fell forward, over her shoulders.  I wanted nothing more than to touch her, to never let her go, but I had to have an answer.

       "Keledrial…we can't.  We both have a duty to our families…that's not something you can just throw aside," she whispered.  I slid my hand beneath her chin, and forced her to look at me.

       "Rosealliale…look at me…really look at me and tell me you don't feel the same as I do.  Do that, and I will never bother you again.  I'll wed the damned Moonflower girl, and be miserable, if that's what you want…but you tell me the truth, or may you never know peace," I spoke harshly.  She stared up at me, her violet eyes luminous in the fading light, but she did not reply.

       "Damn it, Rose, answer the question!  Love…love like this…it is a gift from Hanali…or perhaps a curse.  It is wrong to refuse a gift from the gods.  I didn't believe in love, at least not for me…not after all I've done wrong.  I thought it was the stupid fancy of bards…until I met you.  And by the Seldarine, I want an answer, and I want the truth!  What do you feel for me?  Anything?  Nothing?  I need to know either way!" I all but shouted at her.  She looked away, but not before I saw the glisten of tears on her eyelashes.  I released her, feeling sickening dread wash through me.  I felt that I knew what her answer would be…and that I was a fool once more, for daring to believe that there was anyone in the world for me.  

       "I should have known better," I spoke harshly, more to myself than to her.  I turned away, meaning to leave.  I was certain I had my answer by that point.  I thought to myself, once more, of the many times I had scorned the followers of Hanali and the goddess, herself.  This, then, was her vengeance for my lack of belief in her.  A life without love, knowing that the only person I wanted belonged to someone else.   I think I would rather be dead than have to face that.

       "Keledrial…" I heard her call, her voice hiding a sob.  I stopped, but could not bring myself to face her, to see her pity.  

       " You are right…love is not a gift that the goddess grants lightly.  But some gifts simply can't be accepted.  I have a responsibility to my family.  I am betrothed to Evyth Amarillis.  I have a duty to marry him, as my family promised.  Just as you have a duty to wed your betrothed."

       "Why is it that people always use my…duty," I spat out the word like a curse, "to my family as a weapon against me?  And why is it, I would like to know, that all the elves in the world can marry for love…a love granted to us by the goddess herself, except if they happen to have the misfortune of being born into a "noble" family?"   

       "With our position, comes obligations…"she began.  I interrupted before she could finish.

       "I have an obligation to protect my family…not spend the rest of my life in misery for them!" I yelled, turning back towards her.  She stood in the middle of the clearing, her glossy, black hair reflecting the pale white light of Selune.  Her violet eyes glittered, with tears or anger, I am not certain…and her hands were clenched into fists at her sides.

       "Yes, to protect them," she replied, calmly. "And what good things do you suppose will happen to your family if they break a contract with the Moonflower family?  Or to mine if they break with the Amarillis family?  Nightstar and Silverspear are nothing compared to those two houses.  Do you want your family to be shunned for such an action on your part?"

       "By the Seldarine, you don't really believe that, do you?  This is 1395!  Maybe a long time ago something like that might have been a concern…but not now." I scoffed.

       "So you believe.  I cannot be so confident."  

"You haven't answered my question," I reminded her.  I had to know, no matter the hurt.  Her gaze shot to mine, and then down again.  

"You want the truth!" she stated shrilly, eyes downcast.  "Fine! I don't love you!  I could never love you!  You're cruel, callous, racist, and arrogant.  You never think about others, or how your actions affect them.  I would rather wed a dwarf then you!"  For a long moment, I was silent as my anger and pain rose like a black tide within me, consuming me.

"So be it," I whispered, turning away…walking away before I did or said something I would regret for the length of my days.

I made it over a mile's distance from her before I slowed my pace.  I never imagined that a "broken heart" was a malady based in any reality.  And the fact of the matter is, I don't not think that the term is appropriate either.  For what I felt was not the breaking of my heart, but rather a horrible wrenching pain throughout my body…not a broken heart, for that at least would be a small, confined feeling…this was so much worse: the rending of my soul.

And yet, even as I felt this…a feeling so awful I can think of nothing to compare it to…my mind grasped on a single thought, and it took a moment of that one thought repeating itself over and over in my mind before I could comprehend what it meant.

She had not met my eyes.

She had said those hateful words to me, but she'd not met my eyes.  I thought of the many conversations we'd had. She'd once told me that she knew when people lied, for liars tend never to meet the eyes of the one they are lying to.

She had not met my eyes.

I don't know why I went back…Corellon knows that I should not have.  I don't know what I meant to say to her…especially after she had tried so hard to prove to me that she did not love me…to hurt me.   

But the fact of the matter is, I went back, even as the moon was beginning its descent toward morning.  

I heard her before I saw her, and the sounds made me pause for a moment, just beyond the trees where she was.  Horrible sobs pierced the cool night air, sounding as though they were torn from her.  I heard her plead, as she cried, plead to Hanali to take it all away, to make her numb, so that she would not have to feel the pain.  I heard her whisper the same thing over and over.

"What have I done…what have I done…" 

I was silent as I stepped back into the clearing, silent as I approached.  But she looked up anyhow, perhaps feeling my presence.  

"You lied," I informed her, feeling a calm come over me.  She did not move, nor did she reply…only watched me.

"Damn it, Rosealliele Silverspear, admit that you lied to me!"  I hissed, grabbing her arms.  She sobbed once, as she nodded.

"Why?!" I demanded, shaking her.  "Am I so terrible that you would rather suffer than be with me? Make me suffer?"

"No!" she cried.  "I wanted to be with you.  I've wanted it since the day I first saw you.  I knew that day that I was supposed to be with you, even though I was barely past my second decade of life."

"What?" I asked.  As far as I had known, the first time she'd met me had been here…at Everall.

"I watched you…through the hedges that surrounded your family's gardens.  You were always reading.  You never smiled…never laughed.  I knew that I could bring those emotions to you.  But you never looked up, never saw me.  Not at court, not in Leuthilspar's streets, not even during your family parties that I came to. Then my parents died and my grandparents kept me inside…where I would be safe. By the time they allowed me back to court, and I had gotten up enough courage to try to talk to you, you were at school. And then you were gone, lost.  I heard my grandparents speaking about it.  They said it was better that way, because you'd been so ill.  But I knew you weren't dead, just like your parents knew.  After so long, though I think I started to forget.  No one thought you'd ever come back.  I agreed to the betrothal because I didn't think you'd come back either.  Why would you?  You weren't happy on Evermeet. I guess I thought that wherever you were you were happier and I felt that I could be happy knowing that.  But then you came back.  And you were so different from before.  So angry.  And just like before, you never seemed to even see me.  I started to think that maybe I was mistaken, that perhaps there was nothing there…"

"There is.  I was just too dense and stubborn to realize it," I interrupted.

"I love you," I told her, as serious as I have ever been about anything.  She smiled through her tears, looking up at me to meet my eyes, finally.

"I know.  And I have always loved you…but…"

"No.  No "buts."  There is nothing in this world that is important enough to come between us now," I informed her.

"Keledrial…we just can't," she tried one last time.

"Rose, you are making a very convincing argument for me to return to Evermeet and make certain that a fatal accident befalls Evyth Amarillis, should you keep this up," I warned her.

"Don't even jest about that," she stated with a gasp.

"I'm not jesting," I informed her.  Before she could protest, I took her in my arms, and kissed her long, and soundly.  

"Marry me," I asked her, when we broke apart.  

"We can't…" she protested.  I kissed her again.

"Marry me," I asked again.  

"Keledrial…"  I kissed her a third time.

"Marry…"

"All right!" she interrupted, breathlessly.  "Just stop doing that!  I can't think when you do that!"  

"Don't think," I advised her.  "Just feel."

We talked for a long while…until the sun began to rise.  Every time she tried to let guilt rise in her, or doubt I kissed her and made her forget.  Part of me wanted to seduce her, to go farther than kissing, but I recalled that she had said it was her choice to remain a virgin until she was wed.  Hard as it was, quite literally I might add, I decided to respect her wishes on that topic.  Not that I'll be waiting long, mind you, for I plan to marry her just as soon as I can locate a cleric of Hanali to do the job.  The longer I wait, after all, the longer she has to try to change her mind, and that I can't allow.  Not now.  

I know that perhaps she might want a fancy noble sort of wedding…which I will make certain she has later.  After all, I still have plenty of money left over from my adventuring, should we both be disowned as she seems to fear.  I, for one, don't believe my parents would do such a thing.  They've said time and again how they wish for my happiness.  Well this is it.  As for her grandparents, I couldn't say…but as I've mentioned, Rose is one of the last children of her line…I do not think they will disown her over this.  They will all be very angry, most likely.  That I do believe.

The past week has been one of the longest in my life…right up there with Sera's hatching.  Keeping this a secret is certainly not an easy thing…especially since Sera is still barely speaking to me over her disappointment the past month.  It would have been so easy to tell her and have her smile and hug me again…but I can't.  Sera would have the news all over the school in a matter of hours if I told her, and until the wedding is over with, I can't let anyone find out…especially not Liralyn.  My cousin has some way to contact Evermeet and the Queen, I am certain.  The last thing I want is for anyone on Evermeet who might possibly be able to access a gate, trying to stop me.  I hate sneaking about like this, but it has to be done.

Fortunately Tobias has sent me word by way of a sending spell that he is en route, via teleport with a priestess.  They're due to arrive in Hap tomorrow night.  As soon as the priestess is rested enough to do the ceremony, Rose and I will be wed.  Once bound by law and by Hanali, then I don't care who knows…but until then…

I never wondered what one should wear to one's own wedding, let alone a clandestine one.  True, I had seen dozens of weddings on Evermeet and even a few on Ruathym…but I had no access to the finery that would normally be found at an elven wedding, nor did I think Ruathym attire would have been appropriate either.  I ended up wearing the outfit that I had worn when I took Sera to meet the Queen.  It was not in pristine conditions, but a few minor cantrips fixed the few easily spotted tears and worn areas.  Getting Sera dressed was more difficult as she had no intention of cooperating with me.  She was in one of her moods and had to fight and be contrary at every turn.  She still had no idea where we would be going as soon as the sun set, and as such, she saw no need to wear any of her nice clothing.  She refused one dress after the other, and when I finally found one that met her grudging approval, she spilled cranberry juice down the front of it.  In frustration, I finally told her that if she would just put on one of her dresses and keep it clean, that she would get a present when the moon came up.  Bribery has always worked well with her, so she settled down, grumbling still, but cooperative at last.  

It was the 15th day of Eleint.

We were to meet the priestess in the forest at the moonrise.    Moon elven ceremonies often take place at such a time for obvious reasons…and in this case, it was the only time that there wouldn't be dozens of students wandering about.  I'd worked all through the week between classes and at night to make Rose her ring.  The band was woven with threads of platinum and gold, while the stone was a diamond that I had used magic to permanently tint a violet hue to match Rose's eyes.  I slipped it into my pocket as we prepared to leave.

When Sera and I arrived at the clearing, I was a bit earlier than I'd intended to be.  I was surprised to see that grove looked considerably different than it had before.  Some one had taken the time to fill it with flowers, both cut and living…even some rare, blue, sky roses.  Looking about for the perpetrator, I caught sight of Mallorn standing quietly in the shadows. For a moment I felt a seize of fear…had he told his sister anything…seeing as he obviously knew?  But if he had, why would he have gone to the trouble?

"Don't worry, cousin," I heard him say through my mounting panic.  He stepped out of the shadow of the tree, and into the fading light of the sun.  His clothing was still plain, but fancier and cleaner than his usual garb.  

"I couldn't help but hearing you the other night," he told me.  "After all, I have been using the grove long before you and she came here.  I thought, perhaps, that miss Rosealliele would like flowers for her wedding…and that you could use another witness," he informed me.  My panic subsided and I felt a wash of gratitude for my half-elven cousin.  After all, I certainly hadn't thought of flowers…nor of anything besides the ring and wedding Rose.  I guessed that he was right in Rose desiring flowers…women are like that, after all.

Sera, at having heard what Mallorn had said picked up on the one word that mattered most to her.  

"Wedding?"  she studied the grove carefully, took in the nice clothing that she and I were wearing, and caught sight of Tobias leading a silver-haired moon elven priestess in full regalia, into the grove.

"Daddy?  Are you getting married?" she asked me suspiciously.

"Yes," I told her.

"To Rose?!" her voiced rose to a screech-like pitch.  I nodded.  

"Is this my present?  Oh, Daddy!  Thank you!  Thankyou! Thankyou! Thankyou!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down excitedly… as though I had decided to marry Rose for her sake alone.

"Sera, shhh!" I shushed her, not wanting to attract to much attention.  At that point, Tobias and the priestess walked up.  Tobias held out his hand, and I clasped it.

"Thank you," I said to him.  He shrugged.

"Not a problem.  I just happened to be in the company of just the sort of priestess you were looking for," he grinned.  I noticed the priestess blush slightly.  Well, it was nice to know that Tobias still hadn't changed.

"Lord Nightstar," the priestess smiled at me. "I am Celena, a cleric of Hanali. It's my pleasure to be the one who shall join you and your beloved in marriage.  Clandestine weddings are the best, aren't they?" she added.  I nodded, not paying all that much attention as my eyes were on the tree line, waiting for Rose to appear. 

For a few moments, I half expected her to not show up.  I wondered if she would back out at the last minute.  Then I wondered if I was doing the right thing.  Should I have spoken with my parents, perhaps?  Would they have understood?  Did I fully understand what I was getting into?  If I married Rose, after all, that would be it…the last woman I would ever hold for the rest of my days.  Would she be able to cope with Sera?  Would she be angry later at not having a noble-style wedding?  

As the what ifs marched through my thoughts, the doubts cresting, wave after wave, I nearly missed her arrival.  The sun had just set and the moon had appeared in the fading pinkish-orange sky.

A door appeared in the clearing, and Rosealliele stepped through it. Holding the hem of her dress up slightly, she walked towards us, and the door vanished.  A Dimension Door spell.

She was beautiful…I don't know how better to describe her.  Her long hair was swept up in some sort of crown of flowers, held off her neck and shoulders.  Her dress was white…so white that it seemed to glow in the dim light.  It sparkled here and there where bits of crystal had been sewn onto the skirt and bodice with silver threads.  Her skin seemed luminescent as she stepped up next to me and wrapped her am around mine.  I could sense that she was nervous…could feel the faint tremor of her hand against mine.

"I was afraid if I walked I'd ruin my dress," she told everyone, her free hand still tightly fisted in the material of her skirt.  

"I almost didn't come," she whispered quietly to me.  I leaned down a little so that my mouth was next to her ear.

"I knew you would," I replied with far more confidence than I had felt seconds earlier.

She smelled wonderful…like the Rose for which she had been named.  For a moment, I wanted to skip the wedding and move directly to the wedding night.  I settled for kissing the tip of her ear, seeing as my mouth was already in the area.  She shuddered delicately, even as Tobias called out, in his annoying fashion,

"Here now!  You're supposed to wait for that until after the vows."  I straightened up, resisting the sudden urge to smack him. 

"Are we ready?" Celena asked.  I took a deep breath in, then nodded.  A moment later Rose did likewise.

"Then let us begin," Celena said, affecting the ceremonial tone that only clerics and nobles about to make a speech…and perhaps a bard or two, seems to be able to manage.

I hardly heard a word she said after that.  I repeated all words I was meant to, declared my love for Rose in the age-old fashion known as "vows."   When asked if I would hold her in my heart, and love her for all time, I did not hesitate to agree…nor was there, I was pleased to note, any hesitation on her part as she replied likewise.

The ring I had crafted came out of my pocket and went on her finger…a perfect fit, as I knew it would be.  I had been quite careful about taking measurements, all the while using other pretenses to have my hand on hers.

To my surprise she produced a ring from somewhere within the folds of her gown, and slid it onto my finger.  It, too, was a perfect fit, and so I thought perhaps she had been even sneakier than I.  The band was platinum…or maybe white gold, I couldn't tell in that light.  The stone was an emerald…the color my eyes, she told me later.  I could fell a tingle of magic in the metal of it, and wondered what she'd cast on it.

Finally, Celena declared that if the marriage was agreeable to both of us, than it was blessed by Hanali and so we were to be as one from that moment on.  She added that if we wished to seal the vows with a kiss, Hanali would not object.  I barely heard Sera's happy shouts, or Tobias' congratulations as my mouth closed over Rosealliele's for the first time as her husband.

Now, where a normal wedding would have had a long and loud party afterwards, ours was different.  I felt bad that Rose had not been able to have such a thing, but there would be time later.  Tobias and the priestess made their departure…Tobias adding that he'd stop by the school in a few days to see if I was still alive.

Mallorn volunteered to take Sera back to the house, assuring me that he and Liralyn and the rest of the household would keep and eye on her for as long as needed.  Sera protested, naturally.  She did not want to go.  She wanted to stay with her new "mother."  She kept saying that over and over again, as though relishing the sound of the word.                              

Now, as much as I love my daughter, this time there was no way in the nine hells I was letting her get her way.  I wanted my wedding night, gods damn it!  And my ideas for the remainder of the evening…and probably the next few days, I am not sorry to say, do not involve Sera's presence.

So while she pouted, I reminded her that I'd given her exactly the sort of "present" she'd been asking for months and that she should thank me by behaving and allowing me time to "get to know" her new mother first.  Sera conceded, after a while, that it was fair.  She added that her friend Rina's parents had done the same thing…leaving Rina with relatives for weeks and weeks.  I vowed that we would not be gone that long, and extracted a promise of good behavior from her.  Finally Mallorn departed with my daughter in tow, leaving myself and my new wife alone.  

My wife.  It seems strange to write it…strange to think it, and even stranger to say it.  Almost as unnerving as the day I'd begun calling Sera my daughter.  I wondered for a moment, if I'd made a mistake.  After all, I had just bound myself to one woman for the rest of my days…maybe even longer if some of the tales of Arvandyr were to be believed.  The idea scared me just a little.  After all, I'm not even 110 yet.  Close…but not quite.  By most elven standards, I barely even qualified as an adult. And come to think of it, I'm not certain how old Rose is either.  

Thus, with sudden doubts in my mind, I looked down at her, wondering if she was feeling the same thing…but then she met my gaze and smiled, and I knew with as much surety as I have ever felt, that I had not made a mistake.  

Now I would like to be able to say that I was truly noble and chivalric, and that my love for Rose was so true that I didn't feel the need to make love with her to confirm it.  It would have been a lie, if I said that, though.  At that moment, seeing her in her wedding dress, looking so very beautiful in the rising moon light, pretty much all I could think of was that I would finally be able to have sex with Rosealliele…to make love with her.  

She smiled at me, but beneath that smile, I could see that she was nervous…tense.   

"Where are we going to go?" she asked.  "I don't think we should go back to my rooms…or yours either for that matter…" she was starting to ramble.  

"Where do you wish to go?" I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her tight up against my chest.  She was warm, her hair smelled wonderful, and she felt _right_ there…as though that was where she belonged.

"I don't care," she replied.  "Somewhere nice," she then amended.  

I would have liked to have taken her to Evermeet…to the finest inn to be found in Leuthilspar.  Unfortunately, Doing so would require far more time than I was willing to spend.  Besides, with my luck, my parents and her grandparents would have been waiting there for us, annulment papers in hand.

So I thought of the nicest inn I remembered seeing in Waterdeep.  I was certain the name of it, but I had walked by it a few times during my wanderings while I lived there.  From my pocket, I pulled out a scroll that I had had Joylin scribe for me. She hadn't asked why I needed it, and I didn't volunteer information.  Occasionally the dwarven lack of curiosity comes in handy!

Thought I would have liked to have actually memorize the scroll and learn the spell, I decided that it would have to wait for another time.  I cast the spell off the scroll, destroying the parchment in the process.

The inn that I had remembered appeared before us, my teleport spell working as it was meant to.  Looking about, I could see that the street was not crowded, but it was far from empty…but that is typical of Waterdeep at night.  I glanced up at the name: The Sleepy Griffin.  Most inn names sand the same, I think.  Down the road I happened to catch a glimpse of the Elfstone Tavern.  At some point, I would have to take Rose there, but at the moment my mind was all for getting a room.  Fortunately I had had enough forethought to bring a decent sized purse of coin with me, and the innkeeper handed over a key to one of his finest rooms when I paid him a few more coins than he'd been asking.  

I hardly paid much attention to the room itself once we had entered it, except that it had both bath and bed, which is, as far as I am concerned are the few necessities.  

I had Rose in my arms before she managed to make any comments.  For once, she made not a sound of protest.  Things progressed quickly from there. Our hands explored each other for what felt like hours…and probably was…until I was certain I would recognize any inch of her body, even if blinded.

Now, I could go on for ages trying to describe what it felt like to finally make love to Rosealliele.  However, I am no bard and the words to do justice to what I felt are not there.  I can say that all the tensions stored in me from the past months vanished; that holding her in my arms, touching her skin…it all felt more right than any other woman I've known in the past.  Yet, for all the skill I may have garnered in this area during my dissolute past few decades, I felt awkward, afraid that I might do something wrong.  And I felt terrible when I came into her body the first time and caught sight of her wince of pain.  She actually still was a virgin, and as such I had hurt her.  I immediately stilled and apologized.

"It shouldn't hurt for too long. I'm sorry Rose," I told her, uncertain of whether the statement was truthful, seeing as I can't remember ever having sex with another virgin, save one…and I am quite certain that it never stopped hurting _her.  I don't think I shall ever tell Rose about her, though…I don't think I could bear if she thought less of me because of what I'd done._

"I'm not," Rose replied after a moment.

"Not what?" I asked.

"Sorry.  And it doesn't really hurt that much…it just feels…different," she explained, her voice barely above a whisper.  When she started to move, I knew it was all right, and I continued…a fairly good thing, too, seeing as just hearing her speak while she was beneath me, in my arms, and around me was certainly trying to y self control.

By the time we finished the first time, it was to the sound of my name being cried out in the quiet of our room, as she found pleasure.  I had pretty much been murmuring hers over and over again throughout the entire time.

We made love twice in the first night.  I could have done so at least one more time, but I didn't want her to be too sore in the morning.  Still, after we were through, had undressed and taken a rather sensual bath together, I couldn't rest.  I didn't want to close my eyes, or stop looking at her.  I think she felt the same.  And even after all that she still blushed when she realized I was staring at her.

"You're looking at me as though you've never seen a naked woman before," she commented.  

"I haven't," I replied.  

"What a lie," she exclaimed, still smiling though.

"No, it's the truth," I explained.  "After seeing you, all the others are gone."  It was sort of truthful, anyhow.  The memories of all the others seemed like pale, washed out ghosts compared to the brilliance that was my new wife.  My statement was rewarded with another one of her fetching blushes.

"Talk to me," I asked her.  I didn't care what she said, so long as I could hold her and hear her voice.

"What would you like me to talk about," she asked.  

"Anything.  Yourself."

So she talked.  She told me all about her self.  Much of it I already knew, some of it I didn't.  For instance, she is only 4 years older than I am. She went to school at the towers as well, but had been away in Evereska during the attack Evermeet…she had family there she been visiting…cousins who had survived the attack on Evereska.  Her parents both died in the attack on Evermeet, however, both had been defending against the elfeater…as my mother had been when she was wounded. She cried a bit when she told me about them, how kind and wonderful they had been.  She was certain, however, that they we together in Arvandyr and watching over her.

Her grandparents had become very domineering since her parents' death, and it was they who'd arranged her betrothal…although, Rose admitted, she had agreed to it.  She added that she loved her grandparents…her father's parents….dearly, and she understood that they were still grieving and that was why they were pushing her so hard.  To that I replied that I thought it was of the matter that since they could no longer meddle in their son's life, they meant to meddle in hers.  I don't really remember that much of mother's parents, but that is how my grandmother, Tiatha is.  Once she realized that my father was no longer paying much heed to her "advice" she started in on me.  Not that I had ever listened any better, mind you.  Seeing as she controls house Hawksong, I guess she thinks that she should be able to do the same to us.

Rose spent time telling me about her training and her friends…of which she'd had few.  And eventually she decided that it was my turn to talk.  She asked questions and I answered them as best I could.  She wanted to know what it was like on Ruathym, was both shocked and amused at some of the things I described about my time there.  She was curious about the strange source of power that I'd always felt there, especially in that it had blocked magic from finding me…even high magic.  As the hour grew later and the night reached its darkest hour, I grew introspective and told her some of my darker stories.  I told her about what happened on Evermeet…about the potion teacher.  Rose's anger over that was palpable, and she added that she'd never heard anything good about that woman, but if she'd ever suspected…she cut off in the middle of what she'd been about to still shaking in anger. And I told her about what I'd done Penelope, despite my thoughts to the contrary.  I knew I didn't want to try to keep that particular secret forever.  To her credit she didn't stiffen in disgust, nor did she condemn me.  I am not certain what it was she felt, to be truthful…but that still made me nervous. I guessed she sensed this, and after a few moments of silence, she asked if I wished to share the communion with her.

Now, the communion, or the bonding, is another thing that, like reverie, is completely unique to the People.  It is a bond that is shared between two people in which their minds and souls connect for a time.  As far as I know it usually only occurs between two people with deep love, or deep trust as the inner mind becomes open to the other, baring all secrets.  It is not something I have ever experienced, although the knowledge of how to do so is innate to me, as it is to all of the People.  What shocked me, though, is that with our marriage so new, and Rose's acceptance of me so recent as well, was that she was willing to do this.  

I wanted to…and yet I didn't.  What if there was something in my mind that she couldn't accept?  What if I saw something in hers that I couldn't handle?  As all these thoughts were running through my head, Rose spoke again.

"If you don't wish to, we don't have to," she told me.  

"No, I want to…it's just what if you see something in me that you don't like?" I wanted to know.  She smiled, brightening the dark moment.

"Keledrial, my heart, there are many things about you that I don't _like, but I **love** you, and I accept all of your flaws along with that."_

"Flaws?" I laughed, a bit nervously I thought, as I tried to make it sound like a jest.  "I have no flaws."

"Do you not?  Shall we see?" she asked.  Slowly, I nodded.  No secrets…if there was one thing I'd seen and learned from the marriages of both of my sets of parents, it was that they had no secrets from each other.

She put the tips of her fingers against my temples.  I did the same.  Leaning forward, I rested my forehead against her and entered a state similar to reverie…only this state reflected dark memories as well as happy ones.  Her mind flowed into my mind, even as my must have done the same.  I could hear her voice inside of me, much as I had once heard Airk's voice…only this did bring any sense of dismay.  For a time, her thoughts were my own and it was as though I was her.  I felt her acceptance, felt her dismay at some of my more irritating habits and tendency…but nowhere in her thoughts was the disgust or hatred that I feared…nothing but love and relief that she no longer had to hide it any longer.

When we drew apart from the bonding of communion it was with a sense of loss but I could still feel her inside of me, even when our hands became our own again.  Morning rays of light were peaking in through the only semi-drawn drapes of our room.  When I finally slipped into reverie every thought that went through my resting mind reflected her.  I could get used to be happy, I think.

We spent a full ten-day in Waterdeep. It was both strange and yet very liberating.  It was odd to not have Sera constantly about me.  I wasn't exactly unpleasant.  Don't get me wrong, I love my daughter…but sometimes I forget how much easier things are when she's not around.  

       The only problem that I encountered was the next day.  Rose awakened me just after noon.  I can say with surety that I do like being awakened with a kiss.

" Do you always takes reverie while lying down, with your eyes closed?"  I shrugged.  

"It's just a habit I picked up on Ruathym. My foster parents were uncomfortable when I rested with my eyes open, so I learned to rest this way."  

"I shall have to try it with you tonight," she smiled.

"That's only if I let you rest," I told her as I pinned her down and proceed to kiss her soundly.  After Rose and I had enjoyed another round of lovemaking, the problem quickly came to our attention.  Rose's dress was ripped in such a fashion that wearing in public would not be acceptable.  I was quick to apologize when I saw the look of dismay on her face.

"Tell you what," I said to her.  "I will take it down to a seamstress who'll fix it as good as new, and I'll buy you a few more as well…some clothes more suitable for wearing everyday."  Her dress was, after all, a bit too fancy to being wearing about in the streets of Waterdeep.  It would not attract pickpockets, but most likely the eyes of other men…the idea of which did not make me overly happy.  I have no doubt that I would not take very well to the idea of other men having lustful thoughts about my wife.

"Oh, you don't have to do that.  I have plenty of dresses in my rooms at the school.  I don't need anymore," she protested.

"Rose, love, you have to have something to wear while we're here, and besides in your closets and trunks, I'll wager you don't have anything that I bought you," I replied.

"You've never bought me any clothes," she stated, truthfully.

"Exactly.  But we're married now, and so I shall.  Come, you can wear my tunic over the tear until we get something else for you to wear."  I gave her the overtunic part of my shirt.  It was far too large for her, falling to her knees, for one.  It could have easily fit two of her in it.  

We bought some new clothing, both for and myself at one of the places where I used to buy Sera's clothing.  The same seamstress was still there, albeit considerably older, with lines of gray more prevalent than brown in her hair.  The woman remembered me as well, and asked about how Sera was.  I found it a bit odd that she was so polite to me, considering that on one occasion, Sera had wrecked a great deal of the woman's merchandise in a tantrum.  Of course, I had paid her a great deal of money in recompense.

For the next few days, I showed Rosealliele around Waterdeep, taking her to many of the places I had once frequented…and going to some places that I never would have considered going.  Some places were much the same as they had been, like Brian's shop, while others were greatly changed, like the party's inn.  Yes, we went there, seeing as she insisted.  Thankfully, none of my old party members were around, and there was a human running the place that I did not recognize.  The inn itself has gotten a bit bigger, more rooms and the like added.  

We visited the church to say hello to Celedor, who was quite pleased to see me looking so well…his words, not mine.  He seemed a bit startled when I introduced Rose as my wife, but he recovered gracefully with sincere congratulations.  I nearly laughed.

We also stopped by to see Lord Elaith, at his tavern.  This time, he was there, and had gotten the message I left for him last time.  If Rose was nervous about meeting Elaith, especially with his well-known reputation, she hid it well…but then again, hiding our emotions is something that most elves…especially the nobles, seem to able to do with ease.

Elaith was quite courteous to Rose, and we made small talk for a while.  He seemed most interested to hear what I knew of Azariah, and how she was faring in the elven court.  We were behind closed doors when this meeting occurred, I might add.  We did not speak too long, though, for Elaith had some matters he had to attend to, but as Rose and I were leaving, he drew me aside.

"I may have a task for you," he stated quietly.

"You have but to ask," I replied.  I have never thought to renege on the debt I owed him…though others would have had me do so.

"I'm still working out the details of the location, and such of a specific item I wish to find.  If I'm correct, you will have a unique knowledge of how to retrieve it.  I'll send word to you when I have all of the details," he explained, a bit a cryptically. I nodded.

"Until then," was my answer.  I clasped his wrist and Rose and I continued on our way.  She wanted to see what Castle Waterdeep looked like, and that was our next location.

As we got a few streets away, Rose finally spoke.

"I didn't know that you knew Lord Craulnober," she commented in a distinctly neutral sounding tone.  I looked at her.

"Didn't you?  It was quite well bandied about the court…my acquaintance with him.  I'm surprised you wouldn't have heard…or at least seen it in my mind when we bonded," I added. She shook her head.

"I never heard, which is strange considering I was quite careful to listen to anything involving you…though I did not always believe it.  And as for the boding…well, there was just so much in your thoughts that I couldn't possibly have felt everything," she explained.  I wondered what else she didn't know about?

"Well then we shall just have to "bond" again, won't we?" I asked her in a suggestive tone that her blushing brightly.  

We never did make it as far as the castle that day.

On the morning of the tenth day in Waterdeep, Rose and I reluctantly decided that it was time to head back to Everall.  We both still had duties that we're being neglected, and responsibilities that we had to get back to.  And despite how well our whirlwind of a marriage was going, there was still a great many things to do and figure….not the least of which was where we would live, and how exactly we should tell our families of what we'd done.

With the latter, we opted for the coward's way out.  Not usually a route I like taking, but in this case, it seemed the most appropriate.  We both penned letters to our families explaining what had happened.  I also wrote a second letter to the Queen apologizing for breaking my engagement to her cousin, but adding that I could not, in good conscience, marry a woman I did not love.  I had to hope she would understand.  

We sent the letters to Evermeet by boat, carried there by a ship's captain who was bound for Leuthilspar.  With luck it would be months before my parents would even find out what had occurred.

Rose teleported us back to Hap.  I imagine that she must have been a bit nervous, as I felt.  By now most of the school would know about our elopement…thanks to Sera, if no one else.

Mallorn met us before we got more than twenty feet into Hap.

"Greetings, cousin" he stepped out from behind a building, startling me so that I nearly grabbed a weapon, only just stopping myself in time.

"Would you not do that!  Always sneaking about like a damned cat," I grumbled.  He shrugged.

"It's harder for me to make noise than to be silent," he stated, with a half grin. "I trust you enjoyed your vacation?" he asked.

"Immensely," I replied, giving Rose a smile such that she knew exactly which part of our vacation I had most enjoyed.  She blushed….too easy!

"Quite," she stated, despite her obvious embarrassment. "Keledrial showed me all around Waterdeep."

"That's nice.  I'm glad that your time away from Everall was sunny, because the storm approaches," Mallorn stated in his usual cryptic manner.

"What storm?" I asked, suddenly wary.

"It beginnings with the cloud that darkened when she was not informed. The cloud grew into a thunderstorm when four bolts of lightning arrived in short order from a distant land," Mallorn explained in the manner that only bards seem to have...although I can hardly recall Tobias being this bad. Still, I caught exactly what he'd meant in short order.  I groaned.

"Gods!  I was hoping for a least a few months!"

"I believe my fair sister felt honor-bound to inform your Queen of what occurred…who in turn must have felt honor-bound to inform your families," Mallorn said, gravely.  I thought I might have seen a bit of amusement lurking in his expression, but decided not to act on it.  After all, what was done was done.  Now it was time to face the consequences.  I wasn't afraid.  After all they could not take from me the two things I most loved: Rose and Sera…so there was little to fear, right?  Oh they would yell and scream…especially my father.  And I would yell and scream right back.  They would be disappointed, but so long as I have Rose, it doesn't matter.  I turned to regard my wife.  She was looking a bit paler than usual.

"Well love, are you ready to face the storm?" I asked her, using Mallorn's analogy.  She smiled weakly, and finally nodded. So we headed up on the walk towards Everall.  As Celedor might have said, it was now time to face the consequences of our actions.


	20. Chapter 19

Here is the next chapter.  Once again, it's a bit short, but I decided to put it up anyhow.  It was very hard to write…sad, I thought.  I wonder if you'll feel the same.  Let me know what you think.

To Arabwel, Aquila, Catspaw0913, Crazefanficboi, Raelli, and Silverwolf, thanks again!  Azurielle    

They were waiting for us in a sitting room in Sunstar house that I cannot recall ever having seen.  The rooms décor was quite fancy…which could explain, why, if I had ever seen, it held no interest for me.

I suppose they had known we were coming, seeing as Mallorn had known.  I can only assume that someone had used a scrying to device to determine when our arrival would be.  Which makes me hope that they weren't scrying on us too often, or they might have seen something that I personally think no parent should have to witness: their child have sex.

Liralyn was with them, and it looked as though someone had just served tea.  I don't really care for tea…don't really care for drinking any liquid that is hot for that matter.  It would be like drinking bathwater, or something.  

  My mother was seated on a couch and my father was standing just behind her, his fingers drumming a rhythm out against the back of the couch: a sure sign that he was angry.

Two people, who must have been Rose's grandparents were seated just across from my mother. Her grandfather had silver hair, and was wearing arcane styled robes.  Her grandmother had black hair, and also had on wizard's robe, although hers were slightly less ornate than his.  Neither of them looked to be any older than my parents…but my parents hardly look much older than Rose and I.  That is the problem with the people: you can never tell how old any of us are just by looking.  Still, with Rose's Grandfather, at least, I knew he had to posses numerous centuries, for I can vaguely recall seeing him at court once.  Back then, though he still had some strands of blue in his hair…now it was all silver…a sure sign of a venerated age.  I couldn't, however, remember wither f their names.  I have never been good at keeping track of the nobility, though.  

As we walked in, I grabbed Rose's hand and gently squeezed her fingers, trying to be reassuring.  They could yell all they want but there was no way they could undo our marriage now.  Still, I knew from her thoughts and from her own words that family was important to Rose, and I hoped for her sake that our families would get over their anger quickly.

As soon as we got a few feet into the room, I stopped standing there with Rose at my side, feeling defiant and nervous at the same time.

Before they had a chance to say anything, I focused on my parents and stated,

"Mother, Father, I would like you to meet my wife, Rosealliele."  For a moment I could have sworn that there was a smile in my mother's eyes, but it was gone so quickly I wondered if I had merely imagined it.  Naturally my father was the first one to say anything.

"Keledrial…son…I'm going to ask you something and I want to know the truth.  Do you ever **think **before you decide on a course of action?  Or did your years on Ruathym warp you so much that you think the rules do not apply to you?" he asked through gritted teeth, his tone deceivingly mild.

"Of course I thought about what I was doing…I married a woman that I love," I replied, planning to elaborate, as I had done in my letter.  I was not given the chance.

"A woman you love?  You don't even know her!" My father snapped at me.  "Do you have any idea of the trouble the two of you have caused with your irresponsible actions?  Do you?  Loreleiana's parents are furious, not to mention the Amarillis family! "

"I don't care!" I interrupted, my voice rising as my temper rose.  It always happens thusly when my father and I argue.

"I don't give a damn about Loreleiana or Evyth Amarillis or their families!  I never would have married her…never! She despises me and I assure you that the feeling is mutual!"  At that point Rose's grandmother spoke, her tone very like my father's at the moment.

"While I may be able to comprehend your desire to avoid a union with someone you dislike, was it necessary to drag Rosealliele into all this?"

"Grandma, it wasn't like that at all," Rose protested.

"Be quiet Rose," her grandmother interrupted her.  "Honestly, didn't I say that allowing you to come here was a terrible idea?  Far too naïve, I said.  And just look!  Not even here a year and you run off and wed the first male who smiled at you!"  Even as Rose's grandmother was berating her, my father was yelling at me.

"You've gone too far this time, Keledrial!  Seducing another man's betrothed…"

"It wouldn't be the first time," I interjected, sarcastically.  My father's face turned an interesting shade of dark blue for a moment.

"That's it!  I don't know why I ever thought that sending you here was a good idea!  You're coming back to Evermeet with us…at least there I can keep an eye on you!"

"Like you did such a good job of that before!" I shouted, our voices overriding the argument ongoing between Rose and her Grandmother, such that I could not make out what either of them were saying, even though Rose was right next to me.

It might have gone on much longer, with more and more hurtful things being hurled back and forth but at very nearly the same moment, both my mother and Rose's grandfather's voices rose, loud enough to be heard over the yelling.

 "Enough!" Rose's grandfather stated.

"Valorian, Keledrial stop it!" my mother ordered.  We stopped.  Mother just has that sort of effect.

"Now then, I don't think that anything is going to be accomplished here with vulgar yelling and insults," Rose's grandfather continued.

"Rosealliele, love, I want you to explain to me your reasons and then Keledrial…calmly," his voice was the sort that could be both quiet and commanding all at once.

"I love him, "Rose told her grandfather.  "I've loved him since we were children.  I only agreed to wed Evyth because I thought it would make you and Grandma happy…and because I gave up hope that Keledrial was ever coming back."  Her Grandmother looked as though she wanted to say something, but her Grandfather held up his hand and she remained silenced.  

" Keledrial?"  He turned to look at me.

"I love her.  I never wanted any woman as much as I wanted Rose.  And I never trusted any woman as I trust her.  And I'm sorry that all of you are angry, but it won't change anything.  We're wed.  I will never give Rose up.  And if I am to be disowned, then so be it," I tried to put a sense of finality into my tone, hoping that the protests would cease.  Still, I had one more thing to add.

"Mother, you and father love each other…and Brander and Ingrid did too.  I would never have married for less, vows or contracts notwithstanding. And if love is not a good enough reason for all of you, than I would rather be Ruathym than an elf."  Mother sighed.

"I think you've made your point, dear.  I just wish that you both would've spoken with us about this first.  We have always tried to think of your happiness first.  Did you really think we wouldn't understand?"  She sounded a bit sad…disappointed I guess.  Strange how my mother's calm disappointment can me feel a thousand times worse than my father's worst rage.

I sent a pointed look directly at my father, and replied.

"Yes."  My father opened his mouth once…closed it and then, to my utter shock, he laughed.

"Gods…that the day should have come that my voice should be to you as my mother's was to me," he shook his head.  I must have looked confused for my father sought to explain.

"When I was about a century older than you are now my mother told me that it was high time I got married.  She had arranged my marriage when I was younger than you are now with Saelihn's father.  And when she told me, I spent the next hundred years avoiding your mother, determined that I would never wed.  And then I met your mother, just before I was to have wed "the damned Nightstar girl," as I used to say.  I fell in love with her from the first, never knowing who she was.  I told my mother and she said she didn't care if I was in love or insane, that I would marry the woman she had chosen for me, or else.  So I did, having made up my mind that I would be miserable, but that at least I would have done my duty.  Needless to say I quite surprised when I finally met my bride," my father finished his little story, laying his hand on my mother's shoulder.  I could easily believe that my Grandmother was as he'd described…after all, I believe it was she who had aided my parents in arranging my own betrothal.

"So as a husband, I guess I can understand why you did what you felt you had to do…but as father, I still you are far too impulsive…and one of these days its going to get you into trouble that you won't be able to easily escape," my father continued.  I suppose he was right in a way. I am too impulsive…and I do tend to do things without thinking about them first…but no one and nothing could convince me that I had made a mistake here.

The talking went on, much calmer and less tense.  I go the feeling, by the time we had talked the subject out, that while none of them entirely approved of the way Rose and I done things, neither were there going to disown or punish us for being in love.

Once we got past that point, conversation and the entire atmosphere seemed to be entirely more pleasant.  My parents and Rose's Grandparents, Solisila and Baelwyn, seemed to have dozens of questions for the both of us.  They wanted us to go back to Evermeet and have a formal court wedding, for one.  I was set to agree, for Rose's sake anyhow, when Rose surprised me by refusing.  She said that both she and I had duties as teachers, and that perhaps next summer, when the students were off, we would think about it.  With the previous summer break having just gone by not to long ago, and the students only having been back a few months, I could understand why she did not wish to leave now.  

At some point Sera made her appearance and promptly demanded to be the center of attention.  My parents were used to her behavior, and indeed, they tend to encourage her by giving Sera exactly what she wants.  It doesn't matter how often I have tried to dissuade them from such actions…they both claimed that spoiling Sera is their right as Grandparents.  

Rose's Grandparents seemed to handle things fairly well, all things considered.  They had, after all just gained a silver dragon for a great-granddaughter, and Sera wasted no time in showing her affection for these new family members.  

Sera focused mostly on Rose however, using the words "my mother" as often as she possibly could.  Rose had a smile on her face, but I couldn't help wonder what she was thinking about Sera.  After all, I can hardly imagine anyone being prepared to be a parent so suddenly…especially a parent to a silver dragon.  After a bit, Sera begged and pleaded with Rose to go with her so that Sera could show all her friends her new mother.  Sera gave Rose little choice but to agree.  Rose Grandparents decided to walk with them as well.  As he was exiting the room, her grandfather pulled me aside.  His expression was mild and rather pleasant, as was his tone.

"I am well aware of reputation," he stated. "And if you do anything to hurt my granddaughter, I swear they'll never find the body," he threatened. Before I could do more than gape like a beached fish, he continued on after his wife and mine.  And he seemed like such an even-tempered sort!

While waiting for Sea and the others to come back, my parents requested that I give them a tour of the school.  I obliged them quite willingly, glad that things had not gone quite as poorly as they might have.  They told me all about what was going on in Evermeet…which was a great sum of not very much.  The court and all the people within in it were much the same, although my father told me that there was a rumor making the rounds that had a startling ring of truth to it.  He said that he'd heard that Prince Lamruil had been heard from…that the Prince had accomplished whatever mission the Queen had sent him on, but that he had wed a human at some point.  I was surprised, but not as much as I should have been.  After all, from what I recall of Lamruil, that would have been just the sort of thing he would have done.  He had always been a trouble maker, and liked to do things that would raise the most eyebrows…including adventuring when he was barely out of his third decade, and playing the most hair-raising pranks he could think of.  

My father added that he'd heard rumors as to what the Prince's mission was, and only knew for certain that it had something to do with trying to restore high magic, which had been all but lost during the attack on Evermeet, with most of the high mages left in the world dead at the towers.  I told my father to try to find out more if he could.  After all, one day my duties here in Everall would be over.  And I happen to believe that high magic is a very important facet of elven history that should not be lost, if possible.  And as I am one of the few high mage students left from the tower that did not die, it is within in me to help…although it will take decades of renewed study on my part to do so.

They talked about what was going on with the rest of my family.  According to them, my little sisters…who I am forced to admit are not quite as little as I like to think, have both begun their schooling.  Amentrine has decided she wishes to be a bard, like our father, while Anarihne wishes to become a priestess of Sehanine.  Sylthas' sister was also thinking of becoming a priestess, while Sylthas, who has been training for years to be a warrior in Evermeet's army, was recently accepted into the ranks of the griffin riders for training.  Good for him.  For my part, I prefer my feet on the ground.

Kedriel, they finally added, was being a nightmare.  My little brother has spoken of nothing but coming to Everall to go to school, so that he could be with me.  I honestly can't say that I think it is a good idea that Kedriel has so got his heart set on following  in my footsteps…especially considering the frequency in which I manage to find myself in one sort of trouble after another.  Still, I got the feeling that my parents are actually considering sending him to Everall when he gets older…hence their interest in getting a tour around the school had more motive behind than merely seeing the place where I worked.

My parents and Rose's Grandparents ending up staying for a few more days, after which they claimed that they had to return to Evermeet and try to clean up some of the mess that our wedding had caused.  Although I knew I would miss them, in some way I was also glad to see them go.  After all, it is rather hard to have sex with one's wife, knowing that your parents are in the next room over.

Once they were gone, things got back to normal fairly quickly.  Or as normal as things an get in Everall.  Liralyn informed us that it would make more sense for Rose to move into the house with Sera and I rather than the other way around, seeing as Rose's apartments in the teachers dormitory were rather small.  

The very first day back teaching I got little to nothing accomplished, as all my students had a thousand questions they wanted answered…not that I answered all them, mind you.

Following the students, then my fellow teachers had a thousand more questions.  Bran, of course, was the most vocal and wanted all of the details…which I refused to give him.  Still, I found out that they had actually been betting on this and that Tully had won, coming the closest to how long it would take for Rose and I to "reconcile." They wouldn't tell me how much he'd won, though.

I find that the routine here had become familiar, and comforting.  The camaraderie is something I never really had before…and I like it.  And knowing that when school is done for the day, I won't be alone when I go home…that is something that it hasn't taken any time at all to get used to.  Zelairwyn is behaving.  Sera is behaving.  None of my students are causing me any problems.  I daresay that my life, at this moment, is better than it has ever been.

Six months, and I have not had reason to write, for it has been six months of my life where things have been calm.  The winter was mild, and the spring came quickly.  I don't think I have ever been so happy as I have been this past six months.  And now this.  I don't know what to do.  

With the passing of the winter into spring, and spring moving closer towards summer, Tobias stopped by at the school, carrying with him a letter…a return response to a question I had had him ask.  It is something that, in my heart, I never wanted a response to. When Tobias gave me the letter with a smile on his face, but a gleam of…worry in his eyes. I knew that it could not be good.  When I read the words written on the thick piece of parchment, my heart sank as stone thrown to the sea's depths.  It read thusly:

Greetings Lord Nightstar of Evermeet,

It has been brought to attention that you have been making inquiries concerning the identity of the female silver dragon of the Sword mountains, who died in the year 1371.  The name of that dragon was Darshaenalaxis.  It has also been made known to me that you seek the whereabouts of that dragon's mate.  The name of Darshaenalaxis' mate is Vaerosanarisyn, and he can be found in the city of Neverwinter. Further, the dragon known as Vaerosanarisyn has heard of Lord Nightstar, one of the adventurers of Waterdeep who slew the red dragon that slew his mate, and he wishes to why it is you are searching for him.

                                  Vaerosanarisyn of Neverwinter

It was a letter I never wanted to get.  Though I had sent the inquires, I guess that somewhere deep inside, I never, ever wanted an answer to it.  And yet here was the answer, and worse.  The dragon…Sera's real father knew my name and where I am from.  Knowing that, he could easily discern where I live now.  

In a vain hope, I asked Tobias if he knew for certain that this letter was not a hoax, or some sort of trick.  He shook his head, telling me that there was no mistake; that he done a great deal of asking around before he even considered delivering the letter.  It was the truth.  

And so I am now faced with the worst sort of dilemma: now what do I do?

The decision over what to do with the information in the letter has occupied my every thought for a ten-day now, with me never getting any closer to making a choice over what I should do with it.  In the end, however, the decision was made for me…in a manner of speaking.

I think that I can say with surety that the day it happened is certainly among the worst days of my life…and most of it was my own doing. It happened two days ago, and it has taken me this long to find enough calmness to write down any of this.

Sera had been badgering me all throughout lunch….not a new thing, but my mind has been so preoccupied with the letter I wasn't paying much attention to her…or to Rose, who was eating with us. Finally, I managed to focus on what she was saying.

"So can I?" Sera asked me.

"Can you what?" I responded.  She crossed her little arms in frustration.  

"Can I go with Rina during break?"  She was referring to the summer break that was not far off.

"Go with Rina where?"  She gave me a look that insinuated that she not happy that I hadn't been paying attention and that she had to repeat herself.

"To Sundabar," she said.

"Why is Rina going to Sundabar?" I asked. 

"Because that's where her family lives!" Sera exclaimed in a tone of voice that suggested I was being an idiot.  I didn't really care for that tone of voice.

"And your family lives here and in Evermeet.  Why do you want to visit Rina's family?" 

"Because Rina said she'll show me all around Sundabar and stuff!"  I thought about it for all of three seconds.  Sera, alone in a city full of dwarves.  Don't get me wrong, I'm certain that Rina's parents are nice enough people, but I'm not about to trust people I've never even met with my daughter. My wife, I noticed wasn't saying anything, but then she tended to not get involved in too many arguments between Sera and I. Even though Sera has treated Rose as a mother from the very first, I think Rose it a bit nervous about actually taking on the authority that goes with the title.

"I don't think it's a good idea, Sera," I told her.

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Because I don't know Rina's parents, and I don't want you going to Sundabar," I stated.

"But I want to go!" she stamped her foot on the ground.

"Well you're not going," was my reply.

"But why not?" she tried again.  Annoyed, I told her, with finality,

"Because I am you're father, and I said so!"  Her face flushed with anger.  Sera hates not getting her way.  My fault, I suppose, for indulging her.  Still, what she said next had to be the worst combination of words I have yet to hear.  Even though they were said in anger, each one cut through me like a razor, for it was something I never thought to hear Sera say.

"You're not my real father anyway!" She shrieked.  The blood drained from my face in an instant, the rushing of it so fierce that I could scarcely hear my wife's startled gasp.  In a dismayed tone, Rose finally spoke.

"Oh Sera!  You don't mean that," she exclaimed.

"I do!  He isn't my real father!" Sera repeated, still in a fury.  The words were no easier to hear the second time than they were the first.

"I'm a **dragon**!  He's just the elf who hatched me!  He never lets me do **anything!** He's **mean**!  An' everyone is afraid of him!  He doesn't love **anyone**! And I **hate** him!" Sera yelled.

My mind was stunned for a long, terrible moment.  I wanted to defend myself, to deny what she'd said, to shake her and make her take it back.  I suppose that I should have prepared myself for such an inevitable eventuality, but I guess I thought that I would be such a great father that Sera would never have a reason to say anything like that.

As with all such events in my life, however, I was wrong.

At that moment, I should've told her that she could go to Sundabar with Rina.  I should've hugged her and said I was her father no matter what.  I should've done or said something…anything but what I did.  Yet in that bleak moment my fist clenched in my pocket, crumply parchment…the tiny scrap of words that had caused my behavior to be so distant the past few days.

I pulled the letter out, smoothing the wrinkles and staring at the words written there once more.  Rose was still trying to reason with Sera but getting nowhere fast. 

Pain still numbed by shock, I handed the paper to Sera, my hand shaking.

"You're right," I stood up, my tone flat. "I am not your father.  I'll contact him on the morrow that he might come and take you away from me and all that you so despise in me."  Without another word, I strode away from the table, leaving Sera, Rose, and all the other people who had been sitting near enough to hear us, in stunned silence.

I walked until I was well out of their sight, pausing to stop only once I had gotten outside the school walls.  I leaned up against the outer wall, forcing myself to breathe in deeply.  The soft sound of footsteps approached as my mind reeled. 

"Oh Keledrial," I heard my wife's voice say. "She didn't mean it.  She's just angry that she wasn't getting her way."

"What would you know about it?" I snapped.  "Nothing! You don't have children.  You've never had to spend every waking moment watching them knowing that their lives are in your hands, and every mistake you make might be the one that ruins them.  You don't know a damned thing! "  I should've stopped there…indeed, I should never have said that at all to her.  Rose didn't deserve my ire…even Sera didn't.  But I think that when I get that angry, that upset, my brain stops working and my mouth just runs without guidance.

"Besides, weren't you the one who said you could never love someone like me?" I added, bitterly. 

"You know I didn't mean…" she began to protest.

"Didn't mean it?  Only used it as an excuse to drive me away?  If I were the sort of person I should be, you'd never have wanted to drive me away.  Sera's right.  I'm not her father…" 

"Yes, you are!"  I continued as though she'd not interrupted me.

"…but because I love her, I will give her back to the one who is.  Besides what could a stupid elf like me possibly know about raising a dragon?  She'll be happier with her own kind." 

"Keledrial, she was angry!  She didn't mean any of it!  Please!  Don't do this!" Rose pleaded.  I looked up at her at last, and I forced coldness into my green eyes.  I was so certain that I was doing what must be done…the right thing.

"It's done," I stated with finality.  Rose reached out to touch me, to say something else.  I jerked away before she could, wouldn't let her touch me.  I didn't want her sympathy and for the first time in nearly a year, I didn't want her company.  

So I ran.

My feet carried me deep into the forest, fueled by my desire to outrun Sera's words.  Had I truly been wrong in forbidding her to go to Sundabar, I wondered?  I had only wanted her to be safe.  Her damning words echoed through my mind even as my thoughts focused on the dragon I had always thought of as my daughter.  I thought of the day she'd hatched, and of all the days that followed, when I was too frightened to even sleep for fear that something bad would befall her.  I thought of how the thought of her had kept me from going to Arvayndyr during my worst days back on Evermeet.  I thought of how much she had changed in just the short time we'd been at Everall, from being a little girl to whom I was the most important person in her life, to a child who acted and sounded far older, who'd become far too independent for my liking.

And I wondered why it is that I always seem to ruin the things I most care about?

So I wrote the letter and sent it.  It was the right thing to do I told myself.  After all, he was her real father…the last he had of his mate.  He deserved to know.  How would I feel if someone took my child and raised it, all the while knowing I was alive?  I didn't know, but I had a feeling it would not be long before I was to find out.

Rose isn't speaking to me.  Neither is Sera.  Liralyn tried to talk with me, but I told her that if she could betray the man she knew she loved so easily, that I didn't feel I needed any advice from her.  Now she isn't speaking with me either.  Even my friends have been tiptoeing around me.  I think Bran meant to say something, but seemed to think better of it when I glared at him…and he shut his mouth just as quickly.

How easily I've managed to ruin my life…and in only two days time!

I don't know how the message reached Sera's father so quickly…or how he managed to send a response back by the end of the second week…magic I suppose.  He's coming to get Sera.  

I can't say that I recall much of what has been happening lately.  I teach my classes with as few words as possible, giving the students once assignment after the other so that they won't ask questions.  In my free time I work at the forge, falling back on old habits I suppose.  It's so quiet but for the clanging of the hammer…I find I almost miss Airk's voice.  At least I would have had someone to talk to then, seeing as there is no one else.  But I suppose it's my own fault.  I haven't even spoken to Rose.  I think that she and Sera have been staying down at the school dormitories.  Sanhandrian is keeping an eye on them.  At least my familiar is too simple-minded to be judgmental about this.  He doesn't really understand what is going on, but then he is just a squirrel, after all.

Everyday I keep thinking that I should go find them, beg forgiveness.  But what would it change?  Sera is still going.  The truth is I have no right to her, and short of slaying her father, I never will.  No, I have walked into a grave of my own making and now I must lie in it.  But once she's gone…I can't think how I will ever find the strength to get up again.

He arrived today, the dragon Vaerosanarisyn.  He looked human, but then I hardly expected him to walk into the school as a dragon.  In his human form he had short blond hair, and silver eyes and was nearly as tall as I am.  He was polite, his tone neutral as his shook my hand and introduced himself.

"So you are the elf who has been raising my daughter?" he asked.  I nodded, uncertain of what purpose he'd asked the question to.  

"You can't know what a shock your letter came as," he said, with a faint smile.  I thought to myself that it was probably as much of a shock as his had been to me.

"I can't help wondering, though, why did you bother?  I assumed that all of the eggs of my mate's last clutch had been destroyed.  I would never had known had you not sent the letter."

"It was the right thing to do," I stated, dully. 

"I have many children," he told me.  "I cannot imagine giving one of them away to someone else."  I wasn't sure why he saying that.  I didn't want to talk with him.  We weren't friends and I didn't want to be.  He would be taking my child away.  I just wanted to get it over with.

"Look, you came to take Sera, so take her.  I would never have told you about her if I didn't think she would be happier with her own kind," I said, allowing a little of my bitterness to seep out in my tone, despite my best attempts.  I said it…but I didn't think it.  I didn't feel it.  I had had time to think about what I had done.  Time to regret it.  And though it might be true that Sera should be raised by her own draconic father, I selfishly wanted to keep her.  I wanted to tell him that he should go, that she would be happier with me.  But I didn't say it.  Sera had said she hated me.  Maybe she didn't mean it, just as I hadn't truly mean it when I told my parents I hated them.  But then again, my parents had truly been mine…Sera belonged to her real father.  

The dragon who looked like a human stopped smiling, and sighed.  

"Gods that I should be put in this position," he muttered.  "Very well then.  Take me to my child…Sera is it?" 

"Kaithseraly," I corrected.  

"Kaithseraly, then."

I took him to where Sera was waiting.  I gathered that Rose had helped her pack all of her things.  Sanhandrian had shown me the image he'd seen: of Sera and Rose crying while they put her things into bags, put Sera's cat Pixie into her holder.  I didn't think my heart could break anymore than it already was, though, so I tried not to think of it.

I didn't hear much of what was said after I introduced Sera to her father.  I turned all my thoughts and focus inwards trying my damnedest not to scream or cry.  It wasn't fair.  And I had no once but myself to blame for it.  Then they were moving to leave.  For a moment I wondered if Sera would go without saying goodbye, but at the last moment, she ran back and hugged me.

"Please don't make me go, Daddy…please!" she pleaded in a whisper.  "I love you!  I didn't mean it!  Please!  I want to stay with you and Rose!  I don't want to go with him!" She was crying, her fingers digging into my skin.  My knees went out, but I made it look as though I dropped to them so that I would be level with Sera.

"Sera, he's your father. You belong to him.  And if I had been a good person I would have given you to him the moment I found you," I told her, my voice barely above a whisper.  I don't know how I managed to sound so calm.  Inside I was dying.

"Just remember that I always loved you," I told he, as I disentangled her arms from my tunic.  This had to end…they had to leave before I broke down completely.  Why in the name of the Gods had I done this?!

Sera looked up at me, her eyes full of anger and tears.

"I don't belong to anyone!  I'm not a thing!  And you are good!  You saved me! If you love me you won't make me go!" She cried.

"It's because I love you that you're going," was the last thing I said to her.  I looked over to Vaerosanarisyn, my teeth grinding together so much I swear they were about to crack.

"Take her now, or never!" I told him.  I heard him tell Sera it was time to go.  I heard Sera protest she didn't want to go.  I heard Rose crying.  Then they were gone.  I wanted to die.

I started drinking…everything I could get my hands on to try to numb the pain.  I might as well have torn my heart from chest, it was that bad.  The alcohol helped…but even with all I drank it wasn't enough to make me forget.  I had given my daughter away.  I'd worn I'd fight anyone who'd tried to take her away, but it was I who'd done it. If I could have gone to Arvandyr then and there, I would've done it…but even in that I am too cowardly.  So I drink and I write, and maybe someday, I'll forget.

The night she left was the first time I had the dream.  I could not find reverie…and wonder if I ever will again.  Rose was beside me.  She had returned to our room, but I took little comfort, for she had cried until she was too weary to stay awake.  She couldn't understand why I had done it.  I can't even understand it, for now that it is done and she's gone, all my reasons seem hollow and false.

I closed my eyes after a while, weary of looking at the ceiling.  I don't know how I fell asleep…into the sleep of humans, but I did.  And when I did, I began to dream.  

In the theater of my mind, I was back in Ruathym, standing near the well in my village, Rylonar.  I could hear voices coming from the darkness, though I did not understand what they said.  The village was empty of life for a moment, and then in a blink of eternity it was brimming with people.  Villagers I had known, warriors and craftsmen, women and children, all going about their business.  For a moment it seemed as though I was invisible, and then a warrior I remembered, Ingvar, called out to me,

"Airk!  Hurry!  We need you!"  He seemed friendly, his face smiling at me in camaraderie that he had never shown in reality.  It made me feel good.  It made me feel the acceptance that I had once craved.  Another warrior called out, and then a girl I knew from the tavern.  They all called out, one by one, calling me Airk, saying they needed me.  And when I looked down, at my hands, they were no longer mine, but Airk's...sun-browned…human hands.  Then the scene changed, and the streets of Rylonar ran red with blood, bodies scattered everywhere.  And I looked north and could see fires burning, could see all the way to Ruathym city, where the First Axe was with his head on a pike with the rest of the town in red-hued ashes. And I knew that I had to go back

Then I awoke.  I was morning.  The sun shone in through drapes I had not bothered to pull shut the previous evening.  My head was throbbing…from the dream, or the aftereffects of overindulgence, I am not certain. A few decent drinks of some of Magnar's dwarven ale had my head feeling much better…but did not change the fact that even though I knew it to be a dream, I still feel the need to return to Ruathym.  

       Two weeks since Sera has been gone.  Things have not improved much.  I have been attacked by Rina on no less than three occasions…usually with a weapon involved, as the dwarf girl continues to demand that I go get Sera and bring her back.  She has called me all manner of foul names in the dwarven tongue that I am certain I would be more offended by if I could actually speak that language.

       Rose and I are speaking again, albeit not very much.  Conversation is tense at best.  I don't think Rose has been feeling very well, but all of her crying can't possibly be good for her.  Sera's absence is damned near palpable in almost every aspect of my life.

       I nearly killed Zelairwyn the other day, during a sparring match.  He's getting considerably better, but his mouth is beginning to run at both ends.  After I scored a hit on him he asked, his tone sneering, 

       "How long before you abandon me as easily as you did Sera?"  I hit him in the stomach before I could think better of it…hit an heir of Evermeet in anger.  He doubled over, gasping, but he had enough breath to continue with his taunt.

       "Hit me all you want…it doesn't change the fact that you're just as much of a fool as my mother!"  I threw my weapon down.  Better that than to show him how dangerous even a sparring weapon could be.    

       I would have welcomed a battle at that point.  Every day I prayed for the amulet to activate that at least I could take out my frustration on the drow…on anything.  But there was nothing.  I guess either the drow were being quiet, or the folk of Banshee keep did not need my help…not that I imagined they truly needed it anyhow.

       I keep waiting for Elaith to send word of whatever task he wanted me to do , but of that there has been nothing either.  Nothing at all to distract me from my self-imposed misery.

       The dream has continued unabated.  I do not know what to do about it.  Every day the need to return to Ruathym intensifies, even though I have no desire to ever return there.  There is no one I dare talk to about it.  Everyone either hates me for what I did to Sera, or avoids me out of fear.  It's like being back in my old adventuring party…only this is worse as there are so many more people that I care about to show their disapproval.

       Even on Evermeet during my worse day I don't think I felt this awful, so far removed from life.  Very soon I fear I will enter a dream a not wake…or perhaps I will become the ghost that I fear I will fade into.  I keep trying for Rose's sake. I do not wish to drag her down with me…but it is an unfortunate side effect of the elven communion.  I suppose I shall have to try harder, and remind myself that Sera is probably much happier now that she has had time to get to know her real family.  

       I still haven't told my parents about what has happened.  I can think of how to word the letter.  What would I say?  "I've given my daughter away."?  "Elves shouldn't be raising dragons anyhow."?  No.  I'll tell them…eventually.  Just not yet.  Maybe when I can wake up and manage to get through the day without consuming a half a bottle of liquor…maybe then I'll think about it. Until then…well, I don't know what until then.  Maybe a miracle will happen.  Or maybe another disaster.  Although short of Rose, there is much more I have left to lose.

…and may the gods know that that statement was **not** an invitation!


	21. Chapter 20

Here is the next chapter.  A bit longer than they've been lately.  I give you fair warning that the story is headed towards the end.  Can't say how long it'll take though.  I hope you enjoy it.  As always thanks to my reviewers, you who are the entire reason that I have kept writing this: Arabwel, crazefanficboi, lord kaizar, silverwolf7, raelli1, catspaw 0913,and my random fan.  Thanks!

Azurielle

When I woke up this morning, it seemed like all the previous mornings have been.  The nightmare only barely loosened its grips on me. Its been getting harder and harder to escape it.  This time, it the dream, a woman in Rylonar handed me a mirror, and when I looked into it, my face was not as it should have been.  My eyes and ears had been round…like a humans, my hair coarse and blond as the other Ruathen's were.  This time the blood had moved beyond the shores of Ruathym…tainted the towns of Luskan and Neverwinter with the same red ash hued brush.  The last image had been of Penelope and her family…lying dead on the street outside of her store.  

       The latter part of the dream always disturbed me…felt to me as a warning of sorts.  The first part should have disturbed me more than it does…yet somehow, it is not entirely unpleasant.  

       The first thing I did upon waking was reach for the bottle I kept on my side of the bed.  It wasn't there.  I sat up, and leaned over the side, looking, thinking perhaps I had put it in the wrong place.  My head was killing me.

       It wasn't there.  So I opened the drawer in my nightstand.  That bottle was gone too.  I sat up, trying without much success to ignore the pains shooting through my skull.  I did a quick search of my room, noting two things.  One, every last bottle or flask of ale in the room was gone, and two, Rose was not in the bed with me.  

       I heard a crash come from the sitting room, and decided that I would see what was going on. What I found was Rose, standing by the window of the room.  The window was opened, and as I watched, she emptied the contents of one of my missing bottles out the window, and threw the bottle into a wastebasket with a resounding crash as it hit other bottles.  She looked up at me.  Her violet eyes didn't look quite so pretty, being that they were red-rimmed from crying.  Her face was as pale as marble and her hair looked as though she hadn't yet brushed it.  The overall effect made her look a bit wild.

       "What are you doing?" I asked, my voice sounding rougher than usual…but then I had usually managed to kill my all-encompassing headache before I woke in the morning.

       "Trying to remedy a problem!" she snapped, her voice had a hitch in it that let me think she had probably only just finished her weeping.

       "The only problem here is that you've thrown out all of my drinks and I have a headache fit to crack stone," I told her.

       "Then suffer.  You're not to touch one more drop!"  She was being unusually cruel.

       "I'll just go downstairs and get more," I informed her.

       "You will not.  Everyone in the kitchen has been informed I will Curse them if they so much as consider giving you anything short of water to drink," she crossed her arms.

       "And I will threaten to take their limbs off if they do not.  And your Curse is far more easily repaired than that.  See that's the nice thing about having people fear you," I added, feeling quite clever despite what felt like a gaping wound inside my head.  She screamed quite suddenly, and quite shrilly.  It was more than a little painful.

       "Why are you doing this?!" she cried.  "Are you trying to hurt me?"

       "No."

       "Then stop it!  If you don't stop you'll drink yourself to death!  Or is that what you had in mind?"  I shrugged.  The thought hadn't really crossed my mind, but the idea was beginning to show merit.

       "Don't you even care?  Cry! Rage!  Yell!  For the gods' sake do something!  But stop trying to pretend you don't feel anything…and stop using your drinking as a way to hide from this!"  She yelled.

       "Why?  You cry enough for both of us," I pointed out, rather heartlessly.  Wordlessly, she sank into a chair, her eyes brimming with tears and anger.

       "Don't you even care about anything anymore?"  she wanted to know.  I walked over to her, kissed her on the cheek, then straightened.  

       "I care about you…which is why I'm going to find something to drink and then go teach class."   She started to cry.  I walked out.  I truly am a bastard to have done so.  All I wanted at that moment, though, was not to feel.

       I went t the kitchen, but it seemed that there was no one to be found…and the door to the pantry, where all of the non-water drinks were stored, was locked.  I pounded on the door for a moment, angrily, then stopped.  It had only made my hand hurt, and short of finding a weapon, the door wasn't going to open.

       I was on my way back upstairs when I remembered that there wasn't any class today…it was the end of the week, which was a free day for students and teachers alike.

       I thought about walking down to the forge, but thought that it probably wouldn't be a good idea…not with my head hurting the way it did and no easy remedy to be found.  I didn't want to sleep anymore, for fear of the dream,  but I thought that lying down might be a good thing.  A glance out the window let me see that it was raining.  That was fine, gray and dreary matched my mood anyhow.  I started looking for an empty room in which to lie down.  I didn't really want to go to my room,, knowing that Rose was still up there.  Being that it was such a large house, it wasn't too difficult.

       The room looked unused, and I figured I wouldn't be bothered there.  I collapsed on the bed, and pulled a pillow over my head to try to block out all semblance of light and sound.  It didn't really help.  

       My head continued to ache…so much so that the pulse of my blood running through the veins in my head felt like tiny hammers.  And in the silence and the stillness there was nothing…not a damned thing to distract me.

       I was ruining my relationship with Rose.  I wasn't doing it on purpose, but it was happening all the same.  I had ruined things with Sera.  And then, all at once, it hit me.  The grief.  The pain.  The fury.  All the things that Rose had wanted me to feel but I have been to drunk to feel aught.  The feelings tore through me, ripping the wound in my mind open a little more.  I screamed into the pillow, praying that no one would hear me.  I screamed again, my fingernails tearing into the cloth as I pressed the pillow harder against my face. I screamed until my throat was raw and my back was beginning to spasm, and I had no energy left to scream anymore. I wanted to turn back time and stop myself from being a fool. I wanted my family back.  I wanted things to be the way they were, but I knew that I had blown it again, as I had with the party.  I had lost my daughter and was not well on the way to losing my wife.  Idiot, I told myself.  Fool.  Barbarian.  Monster.

       I let go of the pillow, and curled up as tightly as I could.  The tears came of their own volition.  I did not summon them, nor did I bid them not to fall.  Weak.  I didn't care.  I whispered aloud, prayers to a silent room, my voice a terrible rasp…I tasted blood…

       "Please…let me have them back," I pleaded.  "Oh Corellon, please…I'm sorry.  I'm sorry.  What more can I say but that?  I just want her back…"  It was Sera I wanted…and Rose…and the all the friendships I had that I very well may have ruined in the past few weeks with my behavior.  I was greedy, but I wanted them all back.

       I never heard anyone enter the room, but I wasn't really listened.  I didn't hear the soft, childish voices that followed the creak of the door…but they were there.  The faces appeared in front of me…one dark as night, one bright as day…Liralyn's children: Rhylaun and Leithanis.  Leithanis had Sanhandrian in his arms.  I vaguely sensed my familiar's fear, but could not find it in me to comfort him.  For a moment, the two boys looked guilty…as though they were going to be in trouble…but their silver eyes widened when they saw me…with dismay? They looked at each other…uncertain.  Children rarely see grown-ups crying…and certainly not people like me.  

       "Mister Nightstar…are you all right?" Rhylaun asked in a whisper.  I tried to say yes, to tell them to go away, but I looked in their eyes…silver eyes and saw Sera's face when she had begged me not to send her away.  My words came out as wordless cry of pain.  How could I have done it I wondered anew, and closed my eyes so at least I wouldn't have to see them.

       "Maybe he's sick," I heard Leithanis say, his small voice concerned.  

       "Maybe…mister Nightstar…are you sick?" Rhylaun asked.  I stayed silent.  I couldn't answer.  Maybe they would go away.

       "Maybe we should tell Mommy," Leithanis suggested.  

       "She's not here," Rhylaun replied.  "She went down to the school."

       "What should we do then?"  Leave me alone I mentally bade them.  Let me suffer, as Rose had suggested.  

       "I'll go get my Dad," Rhylaun finally said.  Oh dear gods…don't get him, I begged silently.  There was the sound of feet leaving the room, and quiet for a moment.  Then a weight settled on the bed next to me.

       "Here's your squirrel," Leithanis said to me.  I felt Sanhandrian's claws on my chest where the boy had put him. My familiar seemed not to know what he should do, and so merely stood there.  The silence seemed to endure, with only the sounds of my weakness and grief breaking it.  The child was silent…I am certain I scared him.  Sera always was when she saw me upset….Sera.

       The door opened again.  

       "In here, see?" Rhylaun's voice was muffled, but I could still hear clearly enough.  

       "Oh…Eilistrae," I heard Kalanas Dakarios swear.  The strange thing was, I hurt so much at that moment I didn't even care if he saw me thusly.

       "Um…Rhylaun, Leithanis, why don't you go play outside?" he asked the two boys.

       "But it's raining," Leithanis protested.

       "Then why not go to the kitchen and see if they need help?" Kalanas suggested.  They finally seemed to catch on and I heard the door close once more.

       "Are you sick?" I heard Kalanas ask after a moment had passed.  "Do you want me to go get a cleric?"

       "No," I managed, putting my hand to my head to my forehead, pulling the wet hair out of my face.  I dared to look over at him.  He looked ill at ease, shifting his weight from one foot to the other…as though uncertain of what he was supposed to do, if anything.

       "Do you want me to get Rosealliele?" he asked after another moment of quiet.

       "No…just leave me alone," I told him in a bloody-tasting whisper.  I had probably torn up my throat with all that screaming.  Kalanas didn't move.

       "I know it's not my place but…look, Keledrial…you can't just give up hope," the dark elf stated.  

       "What hope?" I replied, tonelessly.  The tears were drying up, leaving an emptiness.  The pain in my head was still there, though…less severe but still there.

       "There's always hope," Kalanas said, softly.  "No one is dead.  And it's not like you can't see Sera again. She's only in Neverwinter, right?"   I nodded, though the motion caused rivulets of pain to slither down my spine from my head.

       "I can't go see her.  She needs to be with her family…where she belongs," I replied.  Kalanas frowned, the expression making his dark face look severe.

       "With all due respect, Keledrial, **you** are her family, and **here** is where she belongs," Kalanas informed me.  "And if she was mine…I never could have done it."

       "She was never mine to begin with.  At least you know that Rhylaun is yours and no one can take him from you."  

       "Death, in the form of an owlbear, nearly did," Kalanas pointed out.  "I owe you his life, and because I do I telling you this: stop feeling sorry for yourself.  You made a mistake.  All fathers do, from you to me, from my father to yours.  It's in our nature, as we must strive to achieve that which seems to come naturally to mothers.  If you want her back do something about it…or move on with your life.  And now that I have most probably overstepped the boundaries of our truce, I am going to get your wife," Kalanas finished berating me.  His expression was of frustration.  I suppose trying to make me understand anything can do that, though. I never thought to ever be lectured by a drow…but there it was.  I hear the swish of his robes as he left the room, the click of the door as it shut behind him.    

       I lay still for a bit, trying to avoid thinking of anything.  In that void I managed to find calm and my headache began to subside to a faint degree.  I did not hear my wife enter the room, but I felt her when she lay down next to me, curling her body alongside mine.

       "I'd rather see you like this than dry-eyed.  I'd rather see you hurting than numb," she whispered.

       "I have trouble showing my emotions sometimes," I replied.

       "I know.  Do you feel better?" she asked.

       "Not really," I answered her wearily.  "I want her back," my voice slipped even lower.

       "I know…so do I.  We'll write to the dragon…maybe we can make him understand," she suggested.

       "I wouldn't…if I were him," I sighed.

       "Then it is a good thing that he is himself, and that you are unique," there was a hint of a smile in her voice.  I rolled on my side to bury my face in her hair.  The scent of her was relaxing and the ache in my head eased a bit more. The gods wouldn't be so cruel as to make more than one of me, I thought to myself.  

       "We'll try anyhow," Rose concluded.  I nodded.  We would try.  After all it wasn't like I could lose her again.

       As it turned out, we never got a chance to write a letter to Vaerosanarisyn.  Exactly three days after I had finally broken down, he arrived at the school once more.  I believed myself to be hallucinating when I saw Sera bolt away from the dragon and throw herself at me with so much force that I was nearly knocked backwards.  Yet she felt real in my arms, and her squeal of joy sounded genuine to my ears.  I stared at her for a long  moment and then back at Vaerosanarisyn.  I finally did manage to recall how to speak after another a moment and a single coherent word managed to escape me.

       "Why?" I asked, utterly bewildered.  The human who was truly a dragon smiled, and then shrugged.

       "It occurred to me, after seeing how truly unhappy Kaithseraly was, and after remembering the expression on your face when I took her away, that if you loved my child enough to give her back to me…thinking of her happiness above your own, even though I can only imagine what it must have cost you to do so, that how could I do any less?"  

       "You're…giving her back to me?" I managed to respond.  He nodded.

       "Though I am her sire, you are her father.  Time will not change that and I would rather know that she was here, happy and safe with you, than growing up unhappy in Neverwinter, hating me for keeping her from her family. Besides, from what I've seen you've done an admirable job until now.  There is one condition, however."

       "And what is that?" I wanted to know, suddenly suspicious.

       "If Kaithseraly wishes to visit me, she will, of course, be permitted to do so.  Further, I will require a visit with her at least once a year.  There are a few things that she does need to know about her own people that I fear only a dragon can teach her," he informed me.  I could live with that…so long as I had her back.

       "Agreed," I quickly accepted.

       "Well, then…now that that's settled, I've business to attend.  Kaithseraly?"  Sera turned to regard him, never once loosening her grip on me, however.

       "I must be going now.  Are you certain this is what you want?"  Without a fraction of hesitation, she nodded.

       "Thank you for letting me come home," she told him.

       "You're quite welcome," he replied with a pat to the top of her head.  Without much ado, he backed away a few dozen yards and resumed his true form.  

       Now when the party and I had fought the red dragon I had thought it to be massive.  Sera's mother had been quite magnificent, even in death…but Vaerosanarisyn was…quite simply huge.  He was easily 50 feet in length, not including his tail.  Where Sera's scales are still a bluish-gray color, his were gleaming silver, with a few old scars visible on his hide.  I was forced to crane my head back just to get an adequate look at him.  And I thought about slaying him? He could have easily swallowed me whole without even needing to chew!

       "Besides," he rumbled, his voice sounded like thunder.  "I'm getting far to old to be raising youngsters," he added with a shrug of his massive shoulders.  A few flaps of his wings lifted him from the ground, and up past the tree line, the downdraft nearly knocking my feet out from under me.  The sun caused his scales to gleam a blinding brightness, as he turned back to the west and flew off.

       I stood there for a stunned moment praying to all of the gods in the Seldarine…and a few not who were not, that this was truth and not a dream.  The first minute passed and nothing changed.  The warm spring air felt real, as did the child in my arms.  

       "Daddy?" I heard her address me for the first time. I slowly looked down to meet her eyes…the same silver that they always were no matter her form.

       "Daddy, are you still mad at me?" she asked, her voice sounding teary.  I shook my head.

       "I was never mad at you, Sera."

       "You weren't?" She asked.

"No…I just thought that…I thought you meant some of the things you said," I explained.

"I didn't!  I swear!  I was mad! But I didn't mean it!  And I'm really, really sorry. I really love you," she was quick to say, her voice a little frantic.

"I know.  And I never should've sent you away.  I should have talked to you first.  I'm sorry as well," I apologized with equal ferverence.

"Did you miss me?  I wanted to come home!" she said.  "I cried and I screamed and I pouted and yelled, and I told him he wasn't my father, that you were.  I was bad, but I missed you, and Mommy Rose."

"Did I miss you?" I asked, a true smile forming on my face for the first time since I'd received that damnable letter.  "I was miserable.  You can ask anyone.  I'm surprised your mother didn't kill me, I was being so miserable," I told her.  Sera giggled, her tearful visage brightening.  

"She wouldn't have.  Did she miss me too?"  Sera wanted to know.  I nodded.

"Everyone missed you.  They all thought I was terrible for sending you away."

"That was terrible," she agreed.  "The dragon wasn't mean…but he wasn't you.  So don't ever do that again.  Promise?"  I promised, one that I meant to keep at all costs.  I would never do this to her, or myself, again.

"Good…now can we go see Mommy?  And Sanhandrian?  And Lashrael 2?  And Rina?  And…" I covered her mouth with my hand and nodded.

"We can go see everyone if you want," I told her.  She smiled.  I hugged her until she protested that she wanted to get down, that I was squeezing her too hard…and the light came back into my life.  I could breathe again.  

As we walked back to the house, I was in a daze, still hoping I wasn't dreaming.  That was yesterday, though and every time I check on Sera, she's still here.  I don't think I'm dreaming, although what I did to deserve this good fortune I shall never know.  Perhaps nothing…perhaps the gods were merely taking pity on me in my foolishness for once.  Either way I don't care.  I have my daughter back and I vow I will never let her go again!

Now, I had hoped that the dreams of Ruathym would stop with Sera's return…but they didn't.  The frequency has grown steadily worse over the past month.  I managed to keep it from Rose until now, but this morning she could not wake me…and I dreamt that the fires and blood had begun to stain the entire Sword Coast.  When I finally awoke I was drenched in sweat, my hair plastered to my head.  I gasped in air, feeling as though I had only then remembered to breathe.  And my heartbeat matched the pulse of the war drums that I heard beating in my dream.

Rose was beside me, crying.  Such a sight was not unusual as of late, however.  Between Sera's miraculous return and my better than average mood, she seems to be crying all the time…although she always claims it is because she's happy.  Why anyone would wish to cry when they were happy is beyond me.

This time, though I knew her tears were out of fear.

"You wouldn't wake up!" she sobbed.  "I shook you…I even hit you!  It was like you weren't even in reverie, but someplace where I couldn't reach you!"  I didn't say anything.  What should I say, after all?  This wasn't like the last time, where the Fury of Battle was granting me dreams that it might be put back together and reforged.  This was more…sinister, somehow.  I felt that it had to be magic, but whence the source?  The dreams were so detailed…no one here, not even Rose could have known enough to have sent it to me via casting.

But if it wasn't magic, what then?  Was it my insanity returning somehow?  But it had never been like this before.  Airk's voice had been nothing compared to the siren's pull of this dream.  And was it even a dream, I was beginning to wonder.  Before I seen images of past battles, battles that the sword had seen.  This time…was I seeing the future?  Was this a warning of some kind?  And if so what was I supposed to do about it?

The logical decision seemed to be to return to Ruathym and find out…but to what end?  Even if I discovered some plot, no one there would believe me.  And why did I keep dreaming that I was human?  Airk was in truth, a name.  I was always an elf.  But not in my dream.  I need someone to talk to about this.  Celedor…Lita…even Tobias…any of them would be my first choices…but none of them were here.  Rose asked again what was happening to me.  I didn't want to tell her anything…but she deserved an explanation…and there was no one else to tell.

I told her of the dream…how it keeps changing, evolving…and each time I have it, it draws me in deeper.  I told her that I was starting to fear that if it went on much longer that one day I would get lost in it and not be able to find my out again.  She seemed pensive as she thought about what I had put before her.     

"I know of spells that could do this sort of thing…but as you said who knows you so well that they could know so many details about your past with the humans?"

"No one…and that's the problem," I explained.  "Even sharing my mind as you have in the communion, I do not think you would be able to recreate Rylonar as perfectly as it is in the dream.  And my journal would not provide enough of a description either!"

"Then it could be someone from Ruathym sending it," she suggested.

"Over such distance?" I asked.  "And to what end? I'm being called back there…and aside from Eirik there is not one living person there who would want me back.  And furthermore, magic use on Ruathym is less than rare.  I doubt even if there was someone there who could cast, that they would waste there time on me," I was growing frustrated.  Why is this happening? My head ached fiercely, as it always does when I wake up.  The answer to the problem seemed so simple…go back.  But it was too simple…and to go back…well, let us just say that it is nowhere high on my list of desires.  I have to talk to Celedor.  Maybe he can give me some advice.  

Rose told me that she would ask some of the other wizards if they knew anything…being discreet of course, she added without my having to ask.  The last thing I wanted is for everyone in Everall to know about my little problem.  As much as I would like to be able to handle this on my own, in the past that has never worked very well.  So I will write to Celedor and I will allow Rose to find out what she might.  After all, it is not like I have many other options. 

Celedor bids me come to Waterdeep.  He wants to speak with me, thinks it will help.  He adds that it seems as though the dreams bid me return to Ruathym…as though I have not figured it out for myself, by now.  Well, I have decided.  I shall go to Ruathym, but it will not be for another two months' time. That is when the summer break will once more be upon us.  I will have time to go off on this journey then.  Until then, my responsibilities are here, no matter how distracted I am.  Besides, planning is necessary at this juncture.  I do not need Celedor to tell me that I must go to Ruathym, but I do need him to make arrangements for both a ship and a crew that would be willing to take to Ruathym…no easy task for few merchants would be willing to sail anywhere near the isle of reivers…and few ships of any other kind have reason to be going there. Still, I have Celedor working on the problem now, by the time summer comes around, I should have a way there.  And yes, I do realize that teleporting would be nearly as easy, however, I do not wish to risk that the magic on Ruathym will make the spell go awry…nor do I wish to die, which is what would occur if I suddenly appeared in front a group of Ruathen people…who would immediately attack me, out of fear if little else.  Thus I must bide my time just a bit longer.  Though the dreams grow more vivid and disturbing nightly, I think I can make it two more months.  Oh, and I think I shall send word to Lita and Tobias, asking if they would join me on this trip.  After all, out of the rest of my old adventuring party, they two are the only ones I have stayed in touch with and the only ones I would trust enough to ask to come with me.  I don't relish the idea of having anyone else with me, however, if whatever on Ruathym is causing this proves to be too much for me to handle alone, it would be nice to know that I have backup…or at least someone to bear my corpse back to elven lands that I might be properly buried…best not think about that though.

I leave tomorrow for Waterdeep.  The students are leaving as I write and not a moment too soon.  I can wait no longer.  Should the dream continue much longer I know that I will not wake.  When I woke this morning it was to the tears of my family.  Rose was near panic.  I had stopped breathing for a few moments while dreaming.  No wonder I felt as though I were drowning in the dream.  This time, the voices in the well were almost clear to me, but the remembrance of what they said still eludes me.  

I will pack tonight.  We are taking the Wayfarer's guild to Waterdeep.  Rose wanted to teleport us, but I forbade it.  She is already unwell from so many sleepless nights that she has stayed awake to make sure that I would wake up.  A few times I had to trick her into drinking a sleep draught that she might rest.  Still, she seems paler than normal…quite a feat consider her normal skin color is very near the color of the moonlight.  And she east so little!  

I have tried everything to dissuade her from coming with me.  She stated that should I forbid her to accompany me, she would only teleport there blindly…or find some other way to follow me.  I have toyed with the idea of locking her up without her spellbook, or various and sundry other ideas as to how I might keep her here…and safe, but the problem is she is just too damned clever and I know she would a find a way to escape.  So I agreed that she might come…on the condition that should the situation become even the slightest bit dangerous she would run by any means necessary.  She nodded and said she would but something about the way she agreed so easily makes me think that she has no intention of following that order either.

Lita and Tobias will be meeting us at the church.  Both agreed to come along, but I had little doubt that they would. Celedor claims he has a ship for me, o all is in order.  Still…I don't not wish to do this, though I know I must.  Something about this whole situation is wrong.  The dreams…the compulsion…it's wrong, but I have run out of other acceptable options.

Sera and Zelairwyn also wanted to go with me.  Here I put my foot down.  Not if they both grown with children of their own would I consider taking wither of them along.  Sera pouted. For once, I stood firm.  She is not coming with me, no matter how much she may wish to.  I did tell her that she may go to Sundabar with Rina after all.  I know, after I put up such a fit over not allowing her to go…but I do not want her to try to follow me to Ruathym, hence I figure this will distract her.  Besides, I met with Rina's parents, earlier in the week when they came to get Rina.  They seem like nice enough people…not anywhere near as odd as Hank or Ranon…just normal, I suppose.  Actually, they were probably abnormal, come to think of it, seeing as they sent their daughter to a school such as this and seemed more than happy to take Sera with them on vacation, even though she appears to be an elven child.  I did tell them that she was a dragon, however, as it wouldn't do for them to be…surprised.  After all, most dwarves, or so I have always heard are as racist as the elves.  Why else would be the two longest-lived races and never get along for all that?

With Zelairwyn, he tried to use the excuse that he was practically my squire, seeing as I'm training him, and that he should be allowed to go along…to help me. It didn't matter when I pointed out to him that, as I am not a knight, he cannot truly be a squire.  He merely changed his wording to "apprentice" and stared at me in that challenging fashion he affects. I told him no.  After all, my task was to keep him out of trouble, not drag him into it.  I have already alerted the Queen, via elfrune that I must leave Everall and Zelairwyn for a time, explaining as best I could my reasons.  She granted me the necessary permission.  Zelairwyn continued nagging me, saying that he was barely younger than I was when I had gone to Ruathym.  I replied that that was all the more reason he would not be coming along.  Look at what happened to me, for Corellon's sake!  Finally, his mother, who also knew of my plans, seeing as I had to inform her of them, put an end to it when she quite firmly informed him that he was not going, and that was that.  She did however, tell him that he would be allowed to visit Evereska and his friends and help with reconstruction effort on the condition that he remain with his uncle Mallorn, and Kellenes Dakarios, both of whom would be accompanying him there.  Zelairwyn was so overcome with amazement that his whining ceased almost instantly.  So either Liralyn has taken a page out of my book, or I am taking a page out of hers as both of us having resorted to bribery rather than the endless arguments that would have occurred had we not given Sera and Zelairwyn something else with which to occupy their thoughts.  

So I finished packing.  I brought my weapons and gear with me…one never knows.  For some reason, I have also decided to bring the Fury of Battle with me.  I may not be able to use, but I suppose I can give it to the Ruathym as a bribe to try and find out what is going on…if there **is **anything going on other than my mind causing me grief again.  It's a holy weapon of Tempus, for one and that is reason enough for them to want it…I hope.

I wait only for the morning, for I will not sleep this night.  Sera is already on her way to Sundabar, and thankfully, I have managed to get Rose to go to sleep.  I pray that the dawn comes swiftly. 

I have not yet decided whom I most desire to kill…should it be Liralyn?  Or perhaps Tobias and Lita?  Or maybe Celedor?  The pack of scheming deceivers!  I am so furious I think I could break steel with my bare hands!  Why do they all believe they have a right to meddle in my affairs!  Troublemakers!  Every last damned one of them!

But I suppose I should continue in order of events as they happen.  That is the proper way to do things…and perhaps I will be able to calm down by the time I finish.

We arrived at the Wayfarer's guild in Waterdeep with only the mild disorientation that comes from teleporting. Rose and I had no more than walked out of the building when a member of the Waterdeep Guard walked directly up to us.  Before I had a chance to ask anything, the guard pulled off her helmet. Familiar short, blond tumbled down to swing just below her chin, and bright green eyes stared up at me, a grin on her face. 

"Kelly," I greeted her, startled.  "What are you doing here?"  She shrugged.

"I've got a friend here at the guild who told me you were coming.  I thought that since you're in town we could go get lunch or something."  I dared to glance at Rosealliele.  Her face was carefully blank.  

"I appreciate the offer, Kelly, but I'm here on business…" Kelly waved her gauntleted hand dismissively.

"Don't worry about it.  Celedor's got the ship and everything under control.  It'll still be a few hours before you can even start getting underway, so there's plenty of time for lunch.  You didn't bring Sera, huh?  Well, that's probably for the best.  I don't think she much cared for me," Kelly rattled on, even as I stuck on the point that Celedor had apparently told Kelly of my little "trip."    

"What did Celedor tell…" I began to ask her, when Rose interrupted.

"Keledrial, you seem to have misplaced your manners," my wife told me in a far too calm tone.  "Make introductions."  

       "Ah…Kelly, this is my wife, Rosealliele Silverspear…"  Kelly immediately extended her hand then quickly drew it back to remove the gauntlet before extending it once more to Rose.

       "Nice to meet you," Kelly stated, politely, before looking over at me.  "I thought you weren't married?" she asked.

       "Well it's a fairly recent occurrence," I commented.  "Anyhow…Rose, this is my…daughter, Kelly."  It sounded weak, event to my ears.  Strange isn't it, how I have talked and talked with Rose…even shared my mind with her and still never got around to mentioning my illegitimate, half-elven daughter?

       "Kelly Vanus," Kelly amended. It is still yet stranger that until then I didn't even know Kelly's…or even Rosaleen's last name.

       "Very nice to meet you, Kelly," Rose said in a gracious manner, even as her fingers clenched convulsively around mine, belying her calm exterior. At that point, Kelly resumed talking.

       "So anyhow, seeing as you've got a bit of time, how about it?"

       "What?" I asked, too concerned over Rose's reaction to recall what it was Kelly wanted. Kelly rolled her eyes.

       "Lunch?  Look, I'm not taking no for an answer.  I'm off work in approximately one hour.  I'll meet you at the Dancing Bear tavern for lunch…they've got great food there…and cheap too!  So I'll see you both then, 'kay?"  Kelly did not give us a chance to refuse as she pulled her helmet back on and hurried off.

       I waited patiently for the eruption that I was certain to follow.  What happened was something I did not expect.  Rose burst into tears.  

       "We've been married for months now, and you didn't even have the decency to tell me about this!"  Rose sobbed…sounding much less coherent than I am writing, however.  

       "It just never came up," I tried to defend myself.  "Why would it?  Kelly isn't part of my life nor am I part of hers. I've only talked to her once, for Corellon's sake!"  Rose shook her head, perfect crystal tears falling freely from her violet eyes…strange how she looks enticing, even when she's crying. Some woman look hideous when they're crying…red eyes, swollen faces and the like, but not Rose.

       "No excuse!" she told me.  "How many other children do you have that I, your wife, don't know about?"  

       "As far as I know, none.  Please, Rose.  There's no need for this.  I'm sorry I didn't tell you.  I truly, truly am.  It just did not seem that important.  I'm foolish.  I admit it...and I was even more so back then.  It never even occurred to me that such a result could happen from my…dalliances.  Please Rose," I wrapped my arms around her, trying to soothe her.  Usually she's so calm about things.  I never would have expected her to react in such a fashion.  A sarcastic "you might have mentioned this sooner," perhaps…even an "Oh Keledrial," in that voice she uses when she's disappointed with something I have done or said that reminds me nothing so much as my mother…but not this. 

       She tried to resist, keeping her body stiff for a moment, but ultimately she couldn't.  She relaxed against me, still crying quietly.  At least she wasn't being hysterical.  

       "I don't know why I'm so upset," she told me after awhile.  "I just can't seem to control my emotions.  I don't know why," she repeated.

       "I do," I replied, kissing her cheek and wiping her face with the edge of my cloak.  "You're tired, and a great deal has happened lately.  It would affect anyone."  After a moment she nodded.

       "I suppose you might be right.  I just feel so silly.  This isn't at all like me," she explained.  

       "Don't worry so much, Rose.  Everything will be back to normal after we figure what's going on.  Just a quick trip to Ruathym and everything will be better," I assured her with far more confidence than I felt.  I guess my acting skills are better than I thought for she seemed to relax a bit more.

       " Back to normal?" she laughed softly.  "And when have things ever been "normal" with us?" She asked.  I thought about it.

       "Never," I grinned.  "But at least we're never bored, right?"  She nodded, the hint of a smile appearing on her face.  Much better, I thought.  

       "Now, we need to get moving Rose.  There's much to do and less time in which to do it.  We'll stop and get a room for the night as it's probably too late to leave today anyhow…besides I want to meet the ship's crew before we sail anywhere.  If you don't want to go to lunch, you can stay at the room, or shop or something.  You don't have to come," I told her.  She shook her head.  

       "I'd rather stay with you.  Besides I think she wanted to meet me," Rose leaned into my side, and I put my arm around her waist. 

       "If that's what you want. And Kelly probably does want to talk to you.  For all that she's grown and has had nothing to do with me during all this time, she is intensely curious about her elven heritage," I explained.

       "Why shouldn't she be?  Half elves have a hard time of it, trying to balance out their human side with their elven side…one culture with the other.  I can't imagine how difficult it must be," she commented.  I could.  But I didn't tell her that.  I just wanted to get things moving so that this whole affair would be over with one way or another.

       So we got a room, and met Kelly for lunch.  The girl chattered on incessantly, and I swear she could easily rival Tobias in her ability to speak an entire paragraph without taking a breath.  She must have gotten such a trait from her mother, seeing as I am nothing like that.  Although, I cannot remember Rosaleen talking all that much either.  When we parted company, Kelly waved and told me she'd see me tomorrow, but did not say when.  That should have been my first clue…but naturally I did not catch on.

       We went from the tavern to the church to meet up with Celedor.  He had, after all, arranged the ship, and so I needed to get the information from him.  

       The priest looked much the same as the last time I had seen him…and the time before that.  Same white and gold robes, same short hairstyle.  That is both the blessing and the curse of the people…we never do change much.  

       He greeted us warmly, as always. 

       "Everything is in order for your trip," he told me without much preamble.

       "That you managed to find a crew willing to sail to Ruathym during the storm season amazes me," I told him.  

"You're to be commended Celedor."  He coughed once, as though clearing his throat and seemed suddenly fascinated with the gold threads on the hem of his sleeve.

       " Well, it wasn't so hard…not with the proper persuasion, anyhow," the priest murmured.  His behavior should have been my second clue, but I took it for modesty at my praise.   

He informed me that the crew would be readied and assembled to leave with the morning tide, and that I should meet them down on the dock at the berth of a ship called the Radiant Dolphin.  I never suspected a thing, but merely thanked him for all his aid once more.  Celedor then proceeded to ask for more details on the dream than I had been able to give in my letter.  So I spent the next few hours explaining the dreams and their progression in detail to my former confessor.  He seemed perplexed by it all, claiming that it did seem similar to the dreams I had had back when I had first begun finding pieces of the Fury of Battle, and yet these were also wholly different.  He agreed that it did seem like there was some form of magic at work and that it almost seemed like a Nightmare spell was being worked on me…but to be so detailed and so draining…he worried that it was a powerful caster at work.  The only problem with that theory, as I have already reasoned, is that priests do not cast the Nightmare spell...only arcane casters do…and of them, I cannot think of one that I ever heard of while on Ruathym…save of course for that damned drow bitch but she is long gone.   

No new revelations or conclusions were drawn that evening, at least not in regards to my bizarre dreams.  Just as Rose and I were rising to leave, though, a messenger appeared and handed a roll of paper to Celedor, whispering quietly.  After a moment the messenger departed, and Celedor turned to hand the scroll to me.

"This is for you, although the sender would not declare themselves."  I took the scroll and looked at it carefully.  It was sealed with wax, unbroken, but no signet marked into it either.  Seeing no harm, I opened it to read the message inside.

"I have the necessary information on the task of which I spoke to you of, and believe you are soon to be in the proper position to aid me in this endeavor.  Meet me at my tavern for the details before you sail."

The letter was unsigned, but I knew exactly who had sent it.  Uncertain of what Elaith meant to ask me to do, I decided to leave Rose at our room while I went to speak with him, promising that I would not be too long.  Rose did not seem happy, but neither did she protest.

When I arrived at Elaith's tavern, I noted that very little had changed.  The bartender, a human I did not recognize ushered me back to the familiar office room where I had often spoken with Elaith.

My fellow moon elf was there, busily scribing something onto a piece of parchment.  His head snapped up as I entered, amber colored eyes meeting mine.  

"Greetings Keledrial," were his first words to me.  

"And to yourself, Lord Elaith," I replied, courteously.  He gestured for me to sit, and so I did.  Elaith, himself, leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together over the parchment on his desk.

"Obviously I received your message," I told him.  "How can I aid you?" 

"It has come to my attention that you are planning a trip to Ruathym," Elaith began.

"How is it that everyone seems to know about it?" I groused.  Elaith shrugged his shoulders.

"For myself, well…secrets are hard to keep from me.  But for the others, let us say that your priest friend has not been entirely discreet about gathering the necessary components together for the journey."  Oh well.  I hadn't really told Celedor to keep any of this a secret, so I suppose I had no real right to be upset.

"About the task?" I returned to the reason for my visit. 

"The task…yes.  For several years now I have been tracking the whereabouts of a very old spell book. It belonged to a wizard of some obscurity but rumor has it that within the pages of his book was a formula for a powerful spell…one that has been all but lost to modern days," he explained.

"What type of spell?" I asked.  

"I am not entirely certain.  Age places the caster during the time of the Netherese empire, thus many rumors believe it to be one of the high-powered spells that were lost to wizards when Netheril fell.  Other rumors hint that it might even be one of the fabled Nether scrolls," Elaith told me, his voice quite low.  

I know well of Netheril.  In fact it was one of the few human cultures I had studied as a youth…in great detail.  More than three hundred year before the current era of Dale Reckoning..well before Myth Drannor or even Corymr were founded, magic was far more powerful.  A race of human wizards known as the wizards of Netheril existed. They reached heights in magic previously unknown by humans…using magic so powerful that only the highest of the elven high mages would dare to use.  The problem was that the human wizards used this magic like a child with a new toy…recklessly.  When one of their number, an infamous human named Karsus reached too far with magic he brought about the fall of the human goddess, Mystra and through her the faltering of the weave worldwide.  When magic fell, so too did Netheril.  And since that time the spells once cast so easily by the human wizards were lost to all but the high mages of the People.  But with the fall of the towers on Evermeet, even high magic has been taken…but in the case of the latter, I can only hope the rumors my father heard were true: that somehow Prince Lamruil is working on a way to bring back high magic to the People.

So with that knowledge I could understand why such a spellbook containing one of the ancient spells was so important.  But that did not explain why Elaith needed me…or what he meant to do with this spellbook.

"In any case," Elaith continued.  "The spellbook's location has moved about through the years.  Most recently, it was kept in a library at the summer home of a human merchant, it's importance and value unknown.  When I inquired about purchasing it however, I was informed by the man's widow that the book was stolen some years ago during a raid by pirates. By the descriptions of those who had witnessed the raid it sounded nothing so much like the raiders of Ruathym.  The book, though incomprehensible to the merchant, was quite ornate decorated with gold leaf and gems.  It had been more of a decoration piece than anything else." Elaith's tone was almost sneering at that point.  I could well understand.  Imagine such a powerful and potentially dangerous artifact as a Netherse spellbook being used as some sort of ornament.  

"If it was Ruathym raiders, there is, unfortunately, a very good likelihood that the book was stripped of its worth and burned," I told Elaith, feeling a bit bad about having to destroy his hopes of recovering the book. Elaith shook his head, smiling enigmatically.

"I do not believe it was.  The book had a long history, and in that history there has been fire…according to my research, the book is protected against time and the elements…even fire."  

"If that is true, then the Ruathym might have been fearful about the book.  There might, then, be a chance that it was put in the Green Room in Ruathym city," I mused.  Elaith nodded.

"That is my theory as well."

"So what you need of me is that I search the Green Room while I am on Ruathym to try to find the book," I postulated.  Again he nodded.  

"Then I will do so.  It is the least I can do after all the help you gave me," I told him.  "But I must warn you that there is a good chance that the book is not there…and that getting into the Green Room will not be something I can easily do."  That was an understatement.  Getting into the Green Room would be a downright pain in the ass, for while it isn't guarded, it usually does require permission to enter it…and I, either as myself or Airk Windreiver…or should I say "Woman-slayer," was not likely to receive permission.  Still, I would try…even if it meant entering the room by less than lawful means.

"I have every faith in your abilities," Elaith informed me in a calm demeanor.  I was glad that someone did.  I stood up, and reached out to clasp Elaith's hand.

"Very well.  I will do what I can to see that that faith is not misplaced," I stated.  He accepted my hand, and gave a kind of half-smile.  I do not think that he smiles very much, so that was a close it got, I imagine.

"And I shall look for your return.  Now, I have much work to do, and you have to be getting back to your fair wife,  should think."  I nodded.  It had only been an hour or so, but I did not want to leave her alone too long…not with her still so upset over all the occurrences as of late.  

So I took my leave and headed back to the inn, where Rose and I spent our last night alone in bed.  After all, come the morning we would be on a ship with at least a dozen more people and I don't not particularly care for the idea of "performing" for an audience while I make love to my wife.

I did not rest that night for I wanted her to take reverie instead.  I knew she wouldn't do so if she knew I was dreaming, so I opted to stay awake. I tried to get Sanhandrian to come out of his familiar pocket, thinking I could waste some of the night that was left by giving him some food, or grooming him.  He flatly refused to come out and would not explain why.  My familiar has been acting odd lately…far more skitterish than usual. But then, everyone has been acting a little off of late.  In Sanhandrian's case, though, it could be that he senses my turmoil and is reflecting it.  I hope that it is all it is.  I hope this will all be over soon, as I had told Rose. Yet I have a feeling that this is not going to be as easy as I'd like.

The next morning dawned far too soon for my liking.  Rose insisted we get up and moving, or we would miss the tide.  I would have been far happier staying where I was, with my arms wrapped around her and her body against mine…but for the dream problem that is.  Regretfully I was forced to acquiesce to her demands and get up and dressed.  We stopped long enough to get some fresh fruit and bread to eat for breakfast as we made our way down to the dock ward.

I found the Radiant Dolphin easily enough, waiting where Celedor had said it would be.  The ship was nice enough: a single-masted keelboat with a blue sail.  It had oars for rowing should the wind die down and could easily carry about fifteen people and plenty of gear.  Though it wasn't ideal for ocean travel, being smaller than a longship, or a sailing ship, it would do.  Seeing as it was so small, it didn't have cabins or anything fancy like that…it would be just Rose, I, the crew and the sea for a few weeks.  

As we got closer I could see that it was already stocked and prepared for the voyage…could see the crew moving about tying up loose ends, so to speak.

As we got right up to the Radiant Dolphin I could see that there were 9 crew members…and about the time I had counted them, I realized just _who they were…and clenched my fists tightly in my cloak to keep from hitting someone._

Of my _crew…the people who were only supposed to take me to Ruathym, at least 8 out of 9 of them I knew…people I trusted…and people whom I called my "friends."  I wonder now if such friendship had been misplaced, for they all should have known I would never have wanted any of them to go with me. _

Oh, Lita and Tobias I had expected…but the others…when they saw Rose and I approach they looked up.  I could detect no shame evident in any of them over their perfidy, which only made me angrier.

My daughter, Kelly was there, as was Celedor. Also among the "crew" were my cousin Liralyn, Bran Stormwind, Kalanas Dakarios, and wonder of wonders, Ranon.

"Why not have invited Hank and Calvin to make this sham of a crew complete?!" I snarled at them.

"Oh we tried," Tobias cheerfully informed, in nowise aware of the mortal danger he was in with such a tone.  "But Hank has pretty much vanished…no one knows where, and Calvin is away at some sort of paladin-retreat thing to pray, and his church wouldn't tell us where it was."   I glared at him, but for once he did not back down or away.  Lita shook her head, and crossed her arms.

"Look Keledrial, you needed a crew…Celedor couldn't find one willing to go to Ruathym at this time of year.  So we talked about it, and figured that this was the best way to go about things."

"The best way?!" I choked.  "I would rather have waited for the storm season to be over than to have all of you with me."

"Well that's ingratitude for ye!" Ranon huffed, ruffling his wings irritated.  "I came down here all the way from Sundabar!"

"Who asked you to?" I snapped.  Ranon pointed his stubby finger in the direction of Tobias and Lita.  

"Rant and rave all you want, Keledrial but according to your wife you don't have the time to wait for another ship and crew," Tobias added.  I looked down at Rose, knowing that hurt had to be evident in my face though I was trying to hide it.

"You knew about this Rose?" I asked her.  She nodded.

"Actually I was the one who invited Liralyn, Bran, and Kalanas," she confessed.  

"Why?" I demanded.  "Do all of you think I am so weak that I can't possibly do this on my own?" I all but roared at them, still looking at Rose, though.

"You need help doing this…it's not the sort of thing that you should try to do alone," I heard Liralyn say.

"Besides, ye never would have asked for help," Ranon felt he had to point out.

"I did ask for help!" I shouted.  "I asked Lita and Tobias and Celedor to help me!"

"Well you may need more than that," Rose informed me, violet eyes flashing.  "Your friends want to help you…is it so hard to let them?"

"Your asking me to trust them when all you of you went behind my back and arranged things, knowing that I wouldn't agree to it!  I don't want to be responsible if anything goes wrong on Ruathym…that's why I didn't want any of you to come!"  I couldn't explain to them that while somewhere in my heart I was happy that they had all come, all willing to help, the feeling was overwhelmed by the fear that if they came to Ruathym something terrible would happen to one of them and that I would never be able to forgive myself for it.

"There's no point in all this yelling, Keledrial love.  We're all going.  You need us to help sail the ship for one.  Don't reject help when it's offered.  If they didn't care, none of them would have come," Rose told me in a low tone.  My fists unclenched and clenched again reflexively.   

"I have no choice, do I?"I asked through gritted teeth.

"Not really," Bran told me, slamming his hand against my back.  "I always wanted to see Ruathym," the human added.  "So I'm going whether you like it or not.  Think we'll see some real battle there?  It gets so boring teaching a bunch of beardless brats the ropes." 

"It gets dull being at the church day in and day out," Celedor piped up.  "I thought I might see this land that made what you are today."

"Tobias asked.  I ain't got aught better to do.  An adventure seemed like fun," Ranon gave his excuse.

"I've followed you into worse than this," Tobias stated.  "Remember Lord Lysanthir's midsummer party?" he added.  I groaned.  That was one particular night I wish I could forget…seeing as the amount of trouble Sylthas and I got into over our drunken antics at that particular party was monumental.

Lita merely shrugged, and said,

"You asked, I came."  That was Lita…always to the point, no fine glossing.  Liralyn and Kalanas exchanged glances, then looked back to me.

"You saved my son's life…and Zelariwyn's life as well.  The least we can do is aid you in this endeavor," Kalanas informed me.

"And besides, it's been years since I adventured with the Myth Knights.  A bard needs new material once in a while," Liralyn added.  Lastly, Kelly spoke.

"You're my father.  I'm bored. I'd like to see at least one of the places you grew up in, and since Evermeet is definitely out, Ruathym will have to do.  Do I need another reason?"  I was quiet for a long moment thinking about this.  They were all determined.  Their stubborn gazes and crossed arms left little doubt of that.  I could go without them, teleport to Ruathym, even though I knew that doing such was not the best idea…but then I would be alone without backup should I need it.  And with the dreams and the compulsion, I feared I would need it. And even if I did go alone, I suspected that they would have followed me anyhow, placing themselves in even more danger seeing as they wouldn't know where to go on Ruathym when they got there.  Thus I was forced to concede.

"Fine.  Come with me.  Get yourselves killed.  See if I care," I sighed angrily.  Then, thinking about it, I looked over to Kelly.  "But not you.  You stay here.  If you mean to use that I am your father as a reason to go, then I will use it as a reason for you not to.  Sera is not going, and neither are you."  Kelly laughed, the little brat.

"Nice try but the big difference between Sera and I is that she's a little girl and has to listen to you.  I'm not.  I'm old enough to do what I want and go where I want.  I'm going and that's that."    And that was that.  There was no deterring any of them.  I just know that this is going to be a fiasco.  I can feel it…sense it in my bones.  Like the Ruathym aren't going to notice a group mostly comprised of elves traversing through their villages?  So much for the stealthy approach to this.

We left less than an hour later, sailing out of Waterdeep harbor and onto the open sea.  
        

As the days have passed while we are at sea, the magic or whatever it is that compels me to reach Ruathym has grown stronger.  Thus far our luck has held out and the only storms we have encountered have been mild.  The ship's owner and navigator a man named Kerrick has said that it shouldn't be much longer.  I can only hope so.  Being in close quarters with so many of my friends is starting to wear thin…and between Tobias and Bran I swear all of them know every stupid mistake or drunken idiocy I have accomplished.  Rose will probably never sleep with me again after listening to Tobias describing to Bran the sheer number of women I "wenched" while on Evermeet.  Throwing one or both of them overboard is beginning to grow more and more appealing with each day.

       We have only a few more days until we reach Ruathym.  The weather is still holding…but I am beginning to fear what I will find when we arrive.  I cannot sleep anymore, out of fear that I will not wake.  This has to end…soon.

The closer we got to Ruathym, the more the magic pulled at me.  All of my energy I spent inward, trying to focus on remaining in control, on resisting whatever it was that was calling me back.  

It was to no avail.  As the shores of Ruathym came into sight, the force against me grew overwhelming.  The boat was too slow…I had to get to shore…to go back…I glanced once at the others…my family, my friends.  I wanted them to help me, but could not find a voice to ask them.  My limbs moved as though controlled by strings, tugged at by an unseen controller.  I was at the railing of the ship in a trice, and over the side before any of them had a moments' warning.  When my head broke through the surface of the icy water, I began to swim, strong stokes, headed for the shore.  I heard them calling, shouts to turn the boat, to "save" me.  

I prayed that they could save me, for I knew then that I could not save myself.  Their voices grew distant, faint, and faded altogether.  The power was so strong, so insistent.  

Ruathym rose before me, and my arms ached from the swim, but the moment I set my feet on the rocky shores of the fjord, I felt nothing.  And the last thing I heard was a voice, a familiar, hated voice.  If a voice could grin in triumph, then that was what this voice did.  All sense of who I was vanished in that moment…the moment I heard Airk Windreiver say,

"I'm back."


	22. Chapter 21

This chapter's a bit short, but I decided to post it anyhow, seeing as I know I hate waiting for the next part of a story.  It's about to get a bit confusing, though, as the point of view in the story will change for the first time from Keledrial's to others'.  This chapter includes the first part of Rosealliele's addition to Keledrial's journal.  Read on to find out why.  Once again, and as always thank you to my reviewers: Arabwel, crazefanficboi, lord kaizar, silverwolf7, raelli1, catspaw 0913,and my random fan.  More reviews, please!  Thanks!  Azrurielle

What followed after that is not clear in my mind, no matter how often I have tried to recall it.  I have vague images and thoughts…a feeling of helplessness and anger…but little else. It is only through the stories of the others and what they have told me that I know what happened on Ruathym.  And so I had them write down their memories and have added those pages here, alongside my own.  

                                                       Keledrial

       _How shall I begin?  My husband has asked that I write of my memories of what occurred while we were on Ruathym, thus I suppose I must begin with the moment that his memories end._

_          We had been sailing for some time and the seas seemed endless to me.  I was much reminded of the trip I took from Evermeet on my way to Everall.  That journey took far more time, especially with my fear of the ocean.  After all, it was the ocean that took my love from me, and I have disliked it since the day that I heard his ship went down. Still, at least that time my destination was one I was looking forward to.  This trip certainly was not of the same variety, and perhaps that is why I felt the days seemed so much longer._

_          When I awoke from reverie that morning, I felt sick, but that is not a new thing.  This whole affair, from the time Sera was taken away, to now has left my stomach churning in fear and sorrow.  Keledrial had not rested, I think…but he rarely did at that point.  His face was grim, even beneath the smile he tried to show me, and there were dark marks beneath his green eyes that showed his weariness.  He knew we were close to Ruathym and I think that he, too, was afraid of what we might find there._

_          When the cliffs of Ruathym rose before us I was struck at what a barren rock of a place it seemed, even though we were still a distance from it.  From a distance Evermeet is all green and bright…not so Ruathym.  What little green I could see came from stunted trees and shrubs clinging tenaciously to the sides of the cliffs.  The rocks were gray and black and made even the water seem colorless by their reflection on the waves.  _

_          The wind began to die down as we got within a mile or so of whore.  Keledrial muttered about Rylonar, his village, being only a few more miles up the coast from where we were.  His gaze at that point, became fixed on the shore.  I wondered what it was he was thinking.  Was the sight of Ruathym bringing back all of the dreadful memories he had taken away from the island with him…or all of the fond ones?  _

_          I knew that what we were doing would not be easy.  We weren't even certain of what it was we were looking for.  I knew that the people might not welcome us.  Most of all, though, I knew that I and everyone aboard the ship would do everything we could to help Keledrial find respite from the terrible curse that was haunting him._

_          Then, Keledrial glanced back at us, his eyes strangely glazed.  His cloak slid from his shoulders to the deck and without any more warning than that, he dove overboard.  For a moment, everyone stood still, shocked.  Why had he done it, we wondered in the long moment it took before his head broke the surface of the waves several yards away._

_          When he surfaced, he began swimming towards the shore, which was still nearly a mile away, never once looking back._

_          "Keledrial!" I screamed for him, but if he heard me, he paid no heed.  The others tried as well, all calling for him, trying to draw his attention…to no avail.  My husband merely continued swimming through the frigid water with the rocky shore as his destination.  _

_          We turned the ship, meaning to go after him, but the wind had died down, quite suddenly, and by the time we got the oars in place and moving, Keledrial was already on shore and climbing up the side of the cliffs. When it became apparent that we were not going to be able to catch up to him, the others turned to regard me, as though I had the answers they didn't._

_          "Do you know what's going on, Rosealliele?" the headmistress, Liralyn asked me.  I shook my head, bending down to pick up Keledrial''s cloak.  _

_          "Your guess is as good as mine," I managed to say, my voice hardly above a whisper for I, too, was shocked.  He had promised that he would not leave me behind…had me promised that he would only make me go if there was danger.  _

_          "He's probably still trying to do this alone…to keep the rest of us safe," Tobias stated.  Lita shook her head at this. The human woman's face was expressionless._

_          "I don't think so.  He knew he couldn't do this alone, or he never would have asked for help to begin with.  Everyone here should know him well enough to know that," she told us.  It was true, I knew.  He would've just gone without explanation to anyone if he could have.  _

_          "The dream then," Celedor spoke up.  "It is possible, with us being so close to the potential origin of it, that whatever magic is at work has taken over his waking thoughts as well."  There was silence at that.  I guess no one had wanted to consider such a possibility could occur, but we were now faced with the reality of it._

_          "So what do we do now?" Kalanas wanted to know.  _

_          "That's easy," Kelly piped up.  All turned to look at her to hear her idea.  I find it terribly strange, looking at her and seeing my husband's features so plainly evident in the girl's face and body.  It is not that I was truly angry with Keledrial about Kelly, only that I was, and still am, surprised at her existence. That and despite the fact that her creation occurred long before Keledrial even knew about me, it is still painful to accept that he had been with a woman with whom he'd created a child…a woman other than I…especially a woman whose name is so similar to my own._

_          "He said that his old village was just a few more miles away, right?  So we go there.  He's got to be headed there anyhow, and we'll make faster time traveling by water than by land," my husband's half-elf child continued.  It made sense.  We all had t agree on that, no matter how much I wished to go ashore that instant and chase after Keledrial.  So it was agreed, and we began rowing, pulling hard that we might reach Rylonar before Keledrial did._

_          Fortunately the wind picked back up a few minutes later, for the truth is that I have never excelled at any sort of physical activity…my husband's declarations that bed sport counts, notwithstanding, and my hands ached fiercely from the attempt at rowing.  The wind was chill, despite the warmth of the summer…or perhaps it was just my perceptions and the forbidding sight of Ruathym, which made it seem so.  In either case, I drew Keledrial's cloak about my shoulders, glad of the warmth and soothed by the scent of him ingrained in the dark green wool._

_          As I watched Ruathym speed by us, my eyes scanning the shore and cliff tops for any sign of Rylonar, I idly reached into the pockets of the cloak.  I knew it to be a magical cloak, specially enchanted for travelers, and as such it had useful items like bread that did not go stale and a flask of water that was always pure and full in the pockets.  I also knew that Keledrial had had his cloak magically enchanted during his time as an adventurer to have a special pocket for Sanhandrian in it.  It was into that pocket I reached, thinking to bring out Sanhandrian.  After all, once we got to Rylonar, the little squirrel could possibly aid us in finding Keledrial, for the two have the same mental link that all wizard's and their familiars share._

_          Strangely enough, though, when I reached in I felt not one, but two small, furry forms in the pocket. Perplexed, I managed to grab both and draw them forth, despite a massive amount of struggling and squeaking.  Sanhandrian ended up in my right hand, squirming mightily, and chittering away at me in an angry fashion.  In my left hand was another squirrel nearly identical to Sanhandrian but for one major difference.  Where Sanhandrian had solid black eyes and was truly a squirrel, the other creature had silver irises and that only let me know that it was not a normal squirrel.  The other "squirrel" glanced about, and upon seeing land that most assuredly not the Sword Coast, "it" asked,_

_          "So…are we at Ruathym yet?"  Though the voice was smaller and somewhat squeaky sounding, I knew immediately who it was.  I sat down quickly, feeling suddenly faint over the ramifications of what I had discovered._

_          "Oh Sera!" I exclaimed in dismay.  The "squirrel" nodded._

_          "Yup!  It's me.  Isn't it neat?  I figured out how to polymorph into non-humanoid forms as well!" she told me, sounding excited.  _

_          "So is that Ruathym?" she asked again, straining to look.  "And where's Daddy?"_

_          "Oh, Sera…you didn't," I moaned.  At my tone Sera at least had the good sense to look guilty._

_          "I'm sorry," she stated.  "But I really wanted to come.  So I told Rina's parents that I couldn't go with them after all, and hid in Sanhandrian's pocket…and I gave him lots of nuts so that he wouldn't tell Daddy I was here until it was too late for him to send me home," she explained.  _

_          "I'm so disappointed in you, Kaithseraly," I told her, trying not to cry.  Keledrial had not wanted any of his family involved in this venture, and now not only I, but both of his children had managed to come along into whatever danger he feared we might find here.  Sera ducked her head and sniffled, doing her best to sound pathetic that she might get out of trouble._

_          "I really am sorry.  I just wanted to come with you so that I could help."  I shook my head._

_          "Sera, your father wanted you to stay out of this for a reason, and as soon as I can, I'm going to teleport you home," I informed her._

_          "Don't send me home!  Please?  I want to help.  Please, Mommy?" she asked.  I was touched at how easily she had accepted me as her mother…touched and a little frightened.  Even though Keledrial and I have been married for quite a few months now, I still am not exactly certain how to handle my new authority over Sera.  She often turns to me for permission to do something and I often give it, unknowing of the fact that Keledrial has already told her no.  And she was doing the very same thing in this situation.  I knew that I couldn't let her stay, though, no matter how prettily she asked.  Keledrial would be furious for one, and it just seemed a bad idea anyhow._

_          "I'm sorry Sera, but that is the way it has to be.  You know very well that what you did was wrong.  As soon as I can you are going back to school," I stated quite firmly.  Sera pouted.  Even in squirrel form I recognized the expression.  She was so used to getting her way, though, that she gets quite upset when she doesn't.  She is a good girl for all that…just a bit spoiled, and from what I understand it is not entirely Keledrial's fault that she is thus.  Still, I have to admit I can understand why…she asks so prettily that its hard to refuse her.  _

_          "Um…why are ye talkin' to a squirrel?" I suddenly heard Ranon ask.  The odd little dwarf had been fairly quiet…but then again so had everyone else.  _

_          "The squirrel is Sera," I explained.  Tobias and several of the others groaned. _

_          "Um…ain't Sera a little elf girl?" Ranon pondered.  For a moment I was confused.  Didn't he know that Sera was a dragon? Apparently not, I was soon to learn, as Tobias thankfully explained.  While that was going on, amidst many dismayed sighs, and Ranon's perplexed glances, Sera resumed her elven form.  She sat down next to me, her arms crossed angrily._

_          "Where's Daddy?" she asked again, pouting still.  "He'll let me stay."_

_          "He's…already on shore," I told her, not certain of what to say.  That, at least, was the truth._

_          "By himself?" she queried.  I nodded.  _

_          "Why is he by himself?  He always get hurt when he does that," she sounded a bit worried.  No one had an answer for her.    _

_          "Well, no time to worry about returning Sera now," Tobias suddenly said a few moments later, pointing.  I followed the line of his finger with my eyes and saw smoke rising up on one of the cliffs, saw the lines of buildings when we got a bit closer._

_          "That must be Rylonar," the bard stated._

_          We sailed as close as we could get to shore, managing to anchor within a few yards of the beach. With the boat anchored in one of the sheltered fjords of the place, the wind died down, the water still and calm.  Fortunately, between all of us we had the proper spells prepared to get ashore without getting too wet, for the water seemed quite frigid despite the summer heat._

_          The beach was not sandy like Evermeet, but rocky with smooth pieces of gray slate.  From where we stood, I could see a narrow path winding its way up the cliffs.  Thus, without much of a plan or idea of what we would do when we reached Rylonar, we gathered together what we needed, weapons spells and the like and began to climb._

_          Though it was probably only a few minutes the climb seemed to take much longer than that.  Each step had to be carefully placed and supplemented with a solid handhold to prevent falling.  Many times on the way up someone…myself included would slip on loose stone.  Thankfully no one actually fell…but all the same I had my feather fall spell ready just in case of an emergency._

_          The top of the cliff was very nearly as rocky as the bottom, but here, at least, small plants and shrubs were growing in the stony soil.  The land rose higher yet from the point where we stood and there was no sign yet of the village, although we could still see the smoke trails drifting up, clearly visible against the blue sky._

_          We moved slowly, deliberately, alert to any threats.  After all, we had no guide…no one with us who knew the customs of the Ruathen, and no way of knowing what we would find when we reached Rylonar._

_          We had to be getting near to Rylonar, of that I had no doubt.  Yet just as we were about to climb up the hill, over which the village lay, we found ourselves surrounded.  They seemed to come out of nowhere, but in truth they had, more likely, been hiding among the boulders and the thin mist that clung to the ground here, not yet burned off by the sun.  They had blond hair; for the most part…many of them had that blond turning to gray and white.  They were are old…or at least they were old as humans reckon time.  Yet for their age, their swords and axes were sharp enough, and aimed at us…their height and breadth, much like Bran's and my Keledrial's, were impressive.  And they did not look friendly.  _

_          Among my allies I saw tenseness, the subtle movement of hands towards weapons and spell components.  We did not wish to attack, for there was no telling if these people were from Keledrial's old village…but we meant to defend ourselves.  I pushed Sera behind me, hoping that she would remain unobtrusive.  I could never forgive myself if something happened to her._

_          Then, one of the men, for they were all males, stepped forward.  His hair was long and mostly gray but for a few strands of black threaded throughout.  He was old, but not so old as some of the graybeard humans I have seen…more towards the end of the middle of his life, thus he still stood tall and straight and there was still obvious strength in his arms for they did not waver at holding up his axe.  I looked up to him, as did everyone else, for he was taller than all of us, but for Bran.  His eyes were a bright, clear green with a hint of almond shape to them.  His appearance was familiar to me and my mind nagged at me, telling me that I should know him.  _

_          He approached Tobias first, his eyes settling on the bard's green hair.  The warrior pushed back Tobias' hair to reveal a pointed ear._

_          "Alfar," the man breathed, nodding.  His fellows did not relax, but he seemed to…fractionally._

_          "We…we mean no harm," Tobias managed to say in their tongue.  It is the Illuskan language of the humans, and fortunately most of us speak it._

_          "We're merely here seeking a friend," the bard added.  The rest of nodded, all save Bran who was looking belligerent… challenging.  I prayed that he would contain his temper, which for all his pleasantness in conversation, I have heard is no better than my husband's when roused.  _

_          The warrior nodded._

_          "You seek Airk…Keledrial," he amended.  _

_          "Yes!" I exclaimed, before thinking about it.  I had not meant to draw attention to myself, or Sera.  _

_          "Do you know where he is?"  The man shook his head, seeming sad._

_          "Keledrial left this place a long time ago…to find his people.  I have not seen him since."  Then his eyes caught sight of Sera, peeking out from behind me.  He beckoned her forward.  I held out an arm to stop her._

_          "No.  Please.  She's just a child."  I was afraid for her, even though my memory still nagged at me, telling me there was not a reason to fear this man.  He beckoned again, looking a bit imperious, as though well used to having his orders obeyed.  Sera took a few steps forward, suddenly shy.   Perhaps she realized now that she might be in danger.  The warrior knelt down to her level trusting, I suppose, in his fellows to guard his back.  His eyes studied Sera for a long moment, and he touched her face tilting her head this way and that.  Sera, thankfully, did not resist as is her nature.  He stood._

_          "This is Keledrial's child.  Her features and colors are his.  Why do you seek him here when you have obviously found him elsewhere?" He demanded._

_          "He had returned to Ruathym, seeking something," I told the man truthfully.  "But when we neared the shore, he dove overboard and went in alone.  Now we're looking for him."_

_          "Seeking something?  Does he dream of blood?" the man asked, his wind roughened skin blanching slightly. I nodded.  The man and the others exchanged a glance that boded ill.  _

_          "He has fallen to the magic, then," the man sighed. _

_          "Who are you?" I finally asked, feeling no threat from him, despite the weapons. The man looked at me in the most curious manner for a moment, then nodded._

_          "I am called Eirik Ivarsson, former First Axe of the southern villages."  Eirik…now I knew him.  He had been Keledrial's dearest friend on Ruathym, the only one who had allowed him to be elven and treated him as an equal._

_          "I know you," I stated.  "You were his friend."  He nodded._

_          "And I still am.  And you are his woman for he would only have chosen one as strong as he is."  I blushed at this for certainly I have never considered myself strong…certainly not as strong as Keledrial.  The human, Eirik's green eyes bored into me, as though he was reading my thoughts._

_          "Strength comes in many forms, alfar woman.  But now, you will all come with me.  If Keledrial has fallen to the magic there is nothing we can do, but perhaps you, who know far more of magics than we Ruathen do, can help explain what is happening here."_

_          "But we must go to Rylonar to find Keledrial," I protested.  Eirik shook his head._

_"Nay.  You will not go there.  Never would I allow Keledrial's woman to go there…not now."  Just as I was beginning to get angry at his high handedness and demand that he take us to Rylonar or make way, Eirik spoke again._

_"Rylonar is not safe.  A terrible spell works on the people there and draws more in with each day that passes.  The magic must be great indeed if it has reached so far as the mainland and ensnared Keledrial. I will explain, but we must be away from here before we are discovered."  There was a sense of urgency to his voice that was palpable.  Keledrial had once told me that the Ruathen did not show fear, but it was there all the same…that one can see it in their eyes.  I looked into Eirik's eyes…dark green…elven eyes I realized with a degree of surprise.  There was fear there.  And so as much as I wanted to go to Rylonar that very instant to find my husband, I did not.  I nodded, agreeing with Eirik's words.  This brought dismay to the rest of my group.  _

_"Rosealliele," Celedor was quick to speak.  "Are you certain we can trust him?" the priest wanted to know.  I could understand his doubts._

_"Yes.  He is Keledrial's friend.  I think he would not betray us."_

_"I vow, by Tempus, that I would never harm Keledrial's kin," Eirik added.  Bran narrowed his eyes, then nodded._

_"I trust him as well," the human teacher stated.  Strange how very much alike he was to these people, with his blond hair and large size.  But then, perhaps not so strange, for it is believed that the Ruathen people are descended from the northern tribes of humans from whence Bran hails._

_We followed Eirik away from Rylonar, heading inland, and further north.  We stopped some hours later when we reached an encampment concealed inside some old stone ruins of indeterminate origin.  Inside there were many more people… mostly the very old or the very young with few ages between to be found.  When arrived they greeted Eirik as one greeted a revered leader, and so I knew him to be as such.  I sensed that the others still felt unease at the situation, but I had to hope that Eirik would soon explain things._

_We were offered what hospitality the camp had to offer…drink, food and a place to rest.  The people stared at us with open curiosity…more than one of them stepping forward to touch our clothing, our hair…as though trying to ascertain whether or not we were real.  It was very awkward and very strange…I can hardly imagine any people who are not familiar with the elves, but there I was forcibly reminded that there are many people in the world who have never seen one of us…places in which we were legend and not reality._

_While the children seemed amused and awed by us, some of the older adults were not.  I heard mutterings of "bad omens" and the displeasure of the gods.  They actually seemed to fear our presence meant some sort of misfortune was upon us and their hands wove out wardings against evil in our direction._

_After a short time Eirik joined us again.  From us he demanded to know what had occurred to bring us here.  I told him, sparing no detail, telling him of the dreams and the compulsions Keledrial had felt to come here._

_"It is the same with all who drink the water of Rylonar," Eirik told us hen I had finished speaking. _

_"The water?" Tobias repeated.  Eirik nodded.  The human took in a deep breath, filling his lungs, then breathed out slowly.  _

_"I will tell you of what has happened here and perhaps you will be able to answer me the questions of how.  How has this happened and how do we stop it?  It started a number of months ago…of the number I cannot be certain for I do not live in Rylonar…but at least six.  I was told that travelers arrived in Rylonar, that the fisher folk had helped these travelers when they were discovered, their boat foundering, at sea.  They were human…but from the mainland.  At first they seemed friendly, if a bit odd.  They asked many questions…mostly about Rylonar's well…when it was dug, who did the digging…and if anything unusual had ever happened to people drinking from it.  Now the people of Rylonar did not think anything amiss and they answered those questions.  The well is over five score years old, dug by the people who settled here.  And as for unusual, it is well known that the children of Rylonar are always born hale and they grow taller and stronger than any other Ruathen in the area.  The women never die in childbed and the men's wounds heal quickly and cleanly._

_And then a strange thing happened.  Very near to overnight, the villagers began to change.  They stopped fishing, stopped working and began to dig around the well…all of them with a single-minded determination.  When asked why they were doing so, they would respond that the travelers had asked it and they could not refuse.  When my son, Ian, the First-Axe of the area," here Eirik's voice swelled with pride…but that pride was laced with a tinge of worry…of confusion.  He continued on.  _

_"…when he heard of what was happening in Rylonar he rode out to see what the trouble was, for digging up a perfectly good well is a strange thing.  He took with him his best men.  He was gone some days before he returned.  When he did, he called up all of his men and ordered them to Rylonar to aid with the digging.  When I asked him why, he told me that it was as the travelers wished.  I asked him why it was he was listening to these travelers…what was so important.  He told me to do as I was ordered in a tone that my son has never before used.  And when I looked into his eyes I saw that they were empty.  It was as though he were not truly there."  Eirik sounded frustrated, and I could see that frustration mirrored on the faces of those around us._

_"That was some months ago.  Since then more and more people from the southern villages have been summoned to Rylonar, never leaving once the near the village.  All young people in their prime…warriors and women alike.  Never are the children brought…and never the elders."  That explained why there were so many of both at the encampment._

_"We cannot be certain what goes on at Rylonar anymore, for guards patrol the borders of the village and we are not allowed near the village itself.  The travelers do not wish it," he sneered. "And so the people gathered seem to follow the words of these people more closely that they follow Tempus!  But to me it seems that these travelers are drawing in an army and they must be using some magic to do so, for what else would cause good people to leave their villages and their trades and their children behind?  We think it must have to do with the well…perhaps the water but we cannot say for certain.  Those of us who have gotten closer have seen a huge hole where the well once was…a tunnel of sorts leading below the earth.  No more do the people dig, but always there are guards at this tunnel.  We think that there is where these travelers rest."  Eirik finished.  _

_"And now tell me, alfar.   Keledrial once told me that your people were skilled with weaving magic.  What manner of magic is this that it controls the actions of so many?  No shaman I have spoken to can claim to understand it." _

_I exchanged a glance with the others.  There was confusion in the expressions.  _

_"A mass charm spell might do this," Kalanas theorized.  "But it would not require the medium of water to cast through…nor would it explain the extraordinary health of the villagers, predating the appearance of these "travelers."_

_"And they would have to be a powerful caster indeed to be able to control the wills of so many,"  Celedor added.  _

_"I know songs that have the same effect…in fact I have the ability to cast such," Liralyn spoke.  "But the song has to be maintained less the spell fail."_

_"It has a sense of evil to it," Ranon muttered.  I, myself, could think of nothing to explain this, though I have long studied magic.  Keledrial would know the answer, I thought.  All those histories of magic filling his mind taunted me, but when we had shared our thoughts I had always focused my attention on his experiences…not his knowledges.  I looked about the group, but found no help.  Kelly and Bran were warriors, and Sera still a child.  They would be no help._

_"If we had some of the water to examine," I sighed._

_"But we do," Eirik heard my words and responded.  I looked to him.  _

_"Might we see it?" I asked.  He nodded and ordered one of the warriors to fetch it.  A few moments later the man returned, bearing with him a flask, holding before him as though it were a venomous snake that might bite him at any moment.  I took the flask and dug out a small silver bowl from among my spell casting components, pouring a small amount of the water in.  _

_It appeared normal water, being clear and possessed on no smell.  The others gathered around to look, each of casting spells to detect magic upon it.  What we saw through the magic of the spell was stunning.  _

_Normally a detect magic spell causes the item in question to emit a faint radiance, the color of this light tinged.  The tinge of the light allows a properly trained caster to determine what school the magic at work is from…evocation, abjuration, divination and so on.  When I looked at the water I could see that the magic in was very strong, but more than that the light was strange…possessed of all the colors of the schools one moment, then bearing no particular school the next.  But underlying the colors of the water was a shadow…a taint to magic…the shadow was as blood to me.  _

_"And you got this from the well of Rylonar?" I breathed, amazed at what I was seeing.   Eirik nodded._

_"That well has always been the purest and we kept stores of it at my home.  When we realized what was happening we stopped drinking the water and I believe that is what saved us."_

_"What do you mean, saved you?" Liralyn asked._

_"We think that how strongly the water affects depends on the amount that has been drunk," Eirik explained.  "Those from villages closer to Rylonar seemed to fall under the strange power more easily…always dreaming of blood until they no longer cared for anything but to obey the travelers.  And of the people of Rylonar, not a one has escaped the pull of the magic…not even Keledrial it seems, for they drank from that well every day."_

_"Then this water is from before the travelers arrived?" Kalanas wanted to know._

_"Aye, it is," Eirik replied, giving Kalanas a curious look.  I winced, knowing what Eirik must be thinking, and glad that none of the Ruathen had attacked Kalanas for being drow.  Kalanas stared back at the human, never flinching.  I thought it might end at that, but Eirik spoke again…bluntly._

_"I have never seen a dok alfar," he commented.  "But I have heard of them.  One of your race greatly aided the Ruathen when many conspired against us."  When Kalanas did not say anything, Eirik continued._

_"It happened many years ago, when Airk…Keledrial was still here.  He hated her.  Hated the very idea of her being here.  He was so angry when no one would believe him of her evil that he ran from Rylonar and stayed away for many weeks.  It was one of the few times we ever truly argued."_

_"And you wonder why he would now travel with something he hated?" Kalanas asked softly.  It is that voice, when he uses it, that frightens me.  Most of the time he is pleasant and agreeable…but when he speaks so, his tone soft but full of anger, I fear him…or perhaps I fear for him.  I cannot be certain.  Though I know him to be good, it is sometimes hard to remember that when time and tradition has so instilled it in me that dark elves are evil.  _

_Eirik nodded.  Kalanas shrugged, the softness gone and once more nonchalant._

_"I owe him a debt of life."  Here Eirik nodded once more, a knowing sort of nod.  A debt of that sort is something I think that the Ruathen could understand, for despite their harsh ways and warlike lifestyle, Keledrial was always quick to add that among themselves they have a very strict code of honor._

_Suddenly, Tobias spoke._

_"The water is from before the travelers, but it has some…taint to it.  Like a shadow."  All of us who could see the magic nodded in agreement._

_"That means that somehow the taint of the water spread to sources beyond the main…which may explain why Keledrial was affected…the water is a part of him, as it would be for every Rylonar villager."_

_"What are you getting at?" Liralyn wanted to know.  Tobias bit his lower lips and I could see that a thought was heavy in his mind._

_"I traveled a lot when I was young…and in a circus you hear all sorts of stories.  And I have heard stories like this before.  In the Moonshaes they have pools similar to this…pools called Moonwells.  But those pools are dedicated to the goddess called the Earthmother…on the mainland she is called Chauntea."_

_"The Moonshaes goddess has no sway in Ruathym," one of the warriors growled, with other nodding vigorously, looking upset._

_"I know that's why I was confused…but then I remembered that she is not the only goddess to have such pools.  The goddess of magic, Mystra, is also known to have similar pools…not dedicated to her, but created by her for purposes unknown, even to her clergy." _

_"No magic goddess has sway here either," Eirik gravely informed us.  "Tempus is our master."_

_"That's the point, though, don't you see?  Mystra has no control over the pools…only created them.  The pool may have been here for ages…even since the beginning of magic.  Untouched, the pools are of pure magic and would rarely be known for anything other than the water it appears to be.  But the histories are riddled with tales of how the pools can be corrupted…so easily corrupted by a mere touch or an ill wish."_

_"But if it's a well it would have had to be dug…the water would have been touched before," Kelly argued.  Tobias shook his head._

_"That's the beauty of it.  The villagers of Rylonar never knew what power was beneath their feet.  Digging a well would have borne no ill wish…only hope of water.  Hope is not corrupting.  And once dug, a bucket was lower to draw the water up.  The water consumed still worked on the Ruathen, altering them as the water reacted to their hopes and desires.  And what would simple human villagers hope for?  To be stronger and taller…to have their children live through the winters…to have their wounds heal swiftly…all that happened in Rylonar but the source…the source was never tainted!  Don't you see?  If I'm right, then a pool of magic feeds the well of Rylonar and the people have been, in effect, drinking magic in for over a hundred years!"_

_"And if these travelers came with ill intentions then it is they who may have corrupted the pool," Liralyn mused._

_"And depending on what they desired it could explai9n why the whole of the village and everyone else who drinks from the pool are under their control!" Tobias finished, sounding a bit triumphant.  For a moment there was an air of excitement at having potentially figured out the riddled, but then Bran asked a question that shattered that feeling._

_  "So how do we stop this?" He wanted to know.  Silence.  We looked to Tobias.  The bard shrugged._

_"The problem with all the stories is that they were never very clear on how one would destroy such a pool," he admitted._

_"The what help knowing what the damned thing is?" Ranon exclaimed._

_"If the foe is known then a weakness can be found…and exploited," Lita stated. Speaking for the first time since we had landed._

_"Okay…so the travelers showed up…and they asked about the well. That means they knew about it…or at least suspected it existed, right?  And all the bad stuff started happening once they found the well.  SO they corrupted it and maybe, if we stop them, we stop the effects of the pool," was Kelly's idea._

_"They stay in the tunnel near the well, whatever is down there," Eirik told us.  "There is no way to get to them without fighting the army of Ruathen they have gathered there.  And few old warriors and younglings are not going be enough to get past an army that is hale and strong," the human stated grimly.  Again there was silence, although I could practically here the furious thoughts running through the heads of all involved, trying to find a solution.  For a long moment I felt despair.  How were we going to save Keledrial?  _

_Then, out of the corner of my eye I saw Lita begin to smile.  That smile grew into a wry grin, and as her eyes swept the group, they came to settle on Tobias, Liralyn and Sera.  The human woman whom my husband so trusted for some reason, chuckled.  _

_"I think I know a way."    _

_                                                          Rosealliele Silverspear_


	23. Timeline

This time line is for clarification on questions posed by crazefanficboi.  I decided to post it in case anyone else had similar questions.  The timelines pertain to Keledrial's life to date of the story, the Calendar of Faerun, and events important to Faerun as well as to this story.  As for the question of Eirik Ivarsson, he was not dead when Keledrial left Ruathym, as it was Eirik who counseled him to go, knowing that a swift trial and death by burning awaited Keledrial if he stayed.  Eirik was 19 when he met Keledrial, some 18 years after Keledrial had been shipwrecked.  Eirik was 43 when Keledrial left Ruathym, a venerable age for a human berserker, and had already had his son and grandchildren.  He is currently 67, an age which is rarely reached by most berserker, hence he appears quite old, but is still alive. Keledrial's current age, 108 is actually 2 years short of the elven majority which is 110.  That is the reason he still not considered an adult.  Thanks for the reviews all, and keep 'em coming.  The next chapter is on its way in another week or so.            

                                                                                                                                                Azurielle

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**Timeline pertinent to Keledrial**                                 _Keledrial's age_

Keledrial is born: 1286 Nightal 20th                                           0             

Sylthas is born: 1296 Mirtul 9th                                                 20

Keledrial goes to study at the towers: 1301                               25

Keledrial is shipwrecked on Ruathym: 1328 Summer                 42

Keledrial meets Eirik: 1346                                                       60

Keledrial leaves Ruathym: 1370 Summer                                   84

Keledrial meets Calvin, Ranon, etc. 1371 Mirtul 13th                 85

Sera hatches: 1372 Hammer 5th                                                86

Keledrial returns to Evermeet: 1372                                          86

Keledrial leaves Evermeet for Battledale: 1392 Summer            106      

Keledrial marries Rosealliele: 1393 Eleint 15th                            107

Keledrial returns to Ruathym: 1394 May 20th                            108

**Calendar**

1 **Hammer**=January

_            Midwinter_

2 **Alturiak**=February

3 **Ches**=March

4 **Tarsakh**=April

            _Greengrass Festival_

5 **Mirtul**=May

6 **Kythorn**=June

7 **Flamerule**=July

            _Midsummer_

8 **Eleasis**= August

9 **Eleint**=September

            _Higharvestide Festival_

10 **Marpenoth**=October

11 **Uktar**=Novermber

            _Feast of the Moon festival_

12 **Nightal**=December

**Time line pertinent to the Forgotten Realms and this fan fiction story**

Crown Wars begin                                           _-12,000_

Drow are created, elven court created               _-10,000_

End of Crown Wars, Moonblades forged.      -_9,000_

Evereska founded                                             -_8,000_

Netheril begins                                                  _-3859_

Nether scrolls discovered                                  _-3533_

Fall of Netheril                                                  _-339_

Cormyr founded, standing stone raised  1

Elminster born                                                  212

Myth Drannor founded, mythal raised                261

Jander Sunstar begins traveling realms               595

Fall of Myth Drannor                                        714

Liralyn Sunstar born                                          919 Highharvestide

Castle Waterdeep built                                     974

Liralyn Sunstar and family are cursed                 989 Greengrass

Valorian Hawksong born                                  1047 Ches 21st

Saelihn and Halaema Nightstar born                  1062 Kythorn 5th

Rosealliele Silverspear born                              1282 Alturiak 7th 

Keledrial Nightstar/ "Airk Windreiver" born      1286 Nightal 20th

Sylthas Nightstar born                                       1296 Mirtul 9th

Drizzt Do'Urden born                                       1297

Anarihne Nightstar born                                    1322 Mirtul 9th 

Amentrine Nightstar born                                  1322 Mirtul 9th

Eirik Ivarsson born                                           1327 Uktar 12th 

Keledrial is shipwrecked on Ruathym:               1328 Summer

Azoun IV is crowned king of Cormyr                1336

Danilo Thann born                                            1336

Lita Ravenlight born                                          1342 Hammer 6th 

The Elven Retreat begins                                   1344

Liralyn Sunstar awakens from curse                  1348 Mirtul 15th

Zelairwyn Sunstar born                                     1348 Midsummer

Tressa "Raine the Banshee" Harpstar born        1350 Flamerule 17th

Time of Troubles occurred                                1358

Allianna Ravenlight born                                    1366 Ches 25th

Evermeet is attacked, Harpers split, King 

Azoun IV slain by a red dragon that ravages 

Cormyr, Azoun the V is born                1371

Keledrial meets the party                                  1371 Mirtul 13th 

Kaithseraly Nightstar hatches                            1372 Hammer 5th

Return of Bane, City of Tilverton destroyed, 

City of Shades appears, The Elven Retreat 

ends                                                     1372

Tressa "Raine the Banshee" marries Andar        1373 Eleasis 20th

Alaryn "Gully" Hawklight born                          1374 Midwinter

The Everall School of Battledale founded          1375

Azoun the V becomes the official King 

of Cormyr                                            1372

Keledrial leaves Evermeet for Battledale            1393 Summer time (age 107)

Keledrial Nightstar weds Rosealliele                  1394 Eleint 15th 

Keledrial and co. leave for Ruathym                  1395 Summer

Brandeth Nighstar is born                                 1396 Marpenoth 27th 

Keledrial's 110th birthday party                         1396 Nightal 20th 

Sylvianna Nightstar is born                                1431 Flamerule 9th 

Elairwyn Nightstar is born                                 1493 Eleasis 15th 


	24. Chapter 22

Here is the next chapter.  It is a little confusing since each section is written by someone new.  The speakers here are Tobias, Lita, and Roseallele.  I was going to make the sections different by italicizing them, or making them bold, but decided against it as I was told it is too hard to read that way.  Thus I used lines to break each section, and each section is "signed" by the writer.  Hope that everyone enjoys it, for the end is very nearly in sight for this story. 

Once again, and as always thank you to my reviewers: Arabwel, crazefanficboi, lord kaizar, silverwolf7, raelli1, catspaw 0913,and my random fan.  More reviews, please!!!  Thanks!  Azrurielle

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It was mad.  Mad to think that my plan had any hope of working.  But no one could think of anything better.  Don't get me wrong, there holes in it…a mile wide in places, I might add. But I could see that the others were considering it.  It just might work, they were thinking.  And why not?  It seemed we were facing a hopeless task, destroying some pool of magic created by a goddess.  But they were elves.  Tended not to see things from an easier point of view.  Kill the ringleaders Kelly had said.  Smart girl.  A fair sight smarter than her father was at times.  But that always was Keledrial's problem…too much book learning and not enough life learning.  He was too smart…but not in the ways it counted.  And his bad temper is no help to his sense at all.

        So it was agreed.  We would try it.  No other choice, they said.  We could always turn back, I thought.  But no one would do that and I could well understand why.  It wasn't just saving Keledrial, mind you, either.  There was an army growing.  And the people in that army obeyed orders without question…and dreamt of blood staining the sword coast red.  It has always been a fear of the people of the sword coast that one day the pirates would unite.  The nelather pirates are bad enough, curse their names and may they rot in the nine hells for all eternity.  Still, they are incapable of unifying…too different.  But Ruathym, now that is another tune altogether.  

        The Ruathen have proved that they can unite under a common leader for a common goal.  Aumark Lithyl did that.  But their common goal has never been the destruction of the cities of the sword coast.  But whoever these travelers are…if they are sending the dreams, I can only think that that is their goal.  And the blood started in Luskan.  How hard could it possibly be to move the Ruathen to crush Luskan, once united.  They hate the place.  Not that I can blame them, hive of villainy and cut throats that it is.  Even Keledrial curses at the name of that town.  And if Luskan fell under the might of Ruathen then who's to say that other cities wouldn't follow? Oh I'm not saying that they would win, but still…with magic on their side who knows what might happen.

        So we'll try my plan.  But not for a day or two, I'm told.  Spells have to be prepared.  Songs and weapons sharpened and readied.  Courage stirred and hearts steeled.  After all if Keledrial is under dark power's sway, we may have to get past him as well.  No easy task considering the magic and rage he can summon.

        I wish I could find a way to leave Rosealliele and Sera out of the plan.  I hate involving the little girl, and I know that Keledrial would have our hides…but there's no helping it.  We need her if the plan's to work.  As for Rosealliele, I don't think wild horses could keep her from coming, even though Kalanas can whip up all the same spells she can.  She's trying to hide her fear…and how sick she's feeling.  She's not a very good actress, though.  She's terrified, but determined.  Not that I can blame her. If it were Allianna, the hounds of the nine hells couldn't stand in my way.  Still, I just know that Keledrial would hate the idea of her being involved.  Especially considering how her hands keep hovering around her belly…I wonder if she even knows she's carrying yet?  Probably not.  Like Keledrial, Rosealleile strikes me as having a great deal of book-sense and not so much real life sense.  Too bad.  That means I'll have t keep an eye on her to make certain she doesn't get herself and her baby killed.  And that means I'll be distracted in battle.  I hate being distracted.

                                                                        Lita Ravenlight

**_______________________________________________________________**

****

****As we approached the hill I began to feel fear.  Not that I hadn't felt fear over what we were doing before, mind you.  But this was a different sort of fear.  It was the what-in-the-name-of-the-nine-hells-were-we-thinking, and how-could-we-possibly-survive –what-we-were-intending-to-do sort of fear. The fair Lita is smart, but this plan of hers…I've no notion of how it could possibly succeed, short of pure, dumb luck.  Fortunately for us, I believe that that is something we all possess in abundance. 

 Now I knew the part I was to play, and new it well.  Hadn't Lita been drilling it into me for the past two days?  And hadn't I been studying feverishly with Liralyn to learn the song we were meant to sing?  Yes.  I most certainly had.  Would it work?  I didn't know. Only for Keledrial would I have ever attempted something so witless. But then again, I was never nearly as daring about my activities as I was when he is around.  Still, I do not have many friends and among them, I must say I consider Keledrial the best I have.  And while he's not always the safest person to be around, he certainly is among the most interesting of my acquaintances.  What kind of friend would I be if I were not willing to walk into peril for my dearest friend?  And in this case, peril was a barbarian army of berserkers, several thousand strong and me armed with only my harp and lute and voice as a defense…I fear I may be doomed.

We crept slowly up to the top of hill, and staying low, we peered down.  The village of Rylonar was not a large village.  A few dozen small cottages stood in what must have been the center of the village.  Even at such a distance, I could see the large, dark opening near the center of houses.  The cave…or well, whichever it now was.  And filling the town to overflowing were Ruathen…men and women…a veritable sea of blond hair and bladed weapons.  Not only did they fill Rylonar, the boiled over into the surrounding fields, tents and makeshift dwellings surrounding the main village.  I could see many of them positioned throughout the area…guards no doubt.  A goodly number of guards were standing near the former well.  In the fields people were drilling…in formation.  The sight was terrifying.  Barbarians moving in the precision lines of the armies of the more "civilized" land…it was tantamount to disaster.  The only thing that has ever kept the northern folk or the Ruathen from truly conquering, as is their nature, is their lack of order when it comes to true wars.  Such order if introduced and embraced, as it was seeming to happen here, could mean a great deal of trouble for the people of the sword coast.  And that is most definitely putting it mildly.

I glanced to the others.  Eirik, Celedor, Kelly, Lita, Bran, Kalanas, Ranon, and Rosealliele stood near one another. Kalanas and Rosealliele then cast the same spell and the entire group of them vanished from sight. 

"Wait until were inside the cave before you start," she reminded me.  I nodded.  It was all I could do at the moment.  I was saving all my words for the song…a song that might very well mean life or death, depending on how well it went.  

Then they were gone, presumably down the hill and towards their destination…the cave and the travelers. I looked about once more, taking stock of who was left.  Liralyn and I would stand together for our part.  I envied her, for the beautiful gold elven woman looked quite calm…as though we were merely preparing for a performance in a tavern…and not a performance for our lives and the lives of the ones we cared about.  At my side, only clinging slightly, was little Sera.  She looked excited, but her grip on my tunic belied her fear.  The majority of the aging warriors of Ruathen that had been in the encampment Eirik had taken us to were already moving around the hill.  They were to go around, as far as they could and try to "distract" the army from the opposite side or where Liralyn and I would be conjuring our own distraction.

Liralyn suddenly turned to face me…or rather, Sera.  She crouched low bringing herself to eye level with Keledrial's draconic daughter.

     "Now, Sera.  Do you remember what you have to do?"  Liralyn asked, gently.  Sera nodded.

"I have to make them chase me," the little girl whispered.  "And if they shoot at me, it won't hurt because of the spell Mommy cast on me."

"That's right. Right now, your skin is as hard as stone.  And you can't hurt stone with arrows, can you?"  Liralyn asked.  Sera shook her head, again, acting far quieter than her usual behavior dictated.  This was the part of the plan that I least liked…besides, of course my part of it. I wish we could have left Sera out of this entirely, for even a Stoneskin spell is not complete protection against whatever weapons the Ruathen might try to use.  And while I don't disagree that Sera's distraction should prove to be effective, I hate the idea of putting a child into the path of danger, no matter the reason.  Especially seeing as Keledrial will murder the lot of us if he survives this and finds out about it.

          "You can do this Sera.  We have faith in you.  And remember.  You're a dragon.  And dragons are brave and strong," Liralyn continued with her little pep talk.  Sera smiled faintly at the last.

          "Daddy's brave…so I will be to," she declared.  Liralyn nodded agreeably.  I was starting to feel sick.  How could we do this?  How could we hope that this plan would work, all of it depending on distraction and magic.

          "Then off you go.  You remember where?"  Sera nodded again.  She carefully pulled the ties on her dress and let her clothes fall in a heap on the ground. Naked, she did not seem to feel the cold…but that's a dragon for you.  

          "Watch my clothes, uncle Toby," she demanded.  Only Sera calls me that, even though I am not her uncle and highly dislike being called "Toby."  When I nodded, she darted off in the opposite direction from the old Ruathen warriors.

          Then Liralyn and I stood alone.  We watched the cave entrance carefully, looking for the sign Lita had spoken of.  It came all too soon for my liking.  Near the entrance, a tiny flash of red appeared on the dirt, near the boot of a guard…a scrap of cloth that Lita had dropped out of the invisibility field that protected those going into the caves. The Ruathen didn't seem to notice anything, but then they were not looking for it and we were.

          Liralyn and I exchanged glances, and in her grey eyes I saw fear to mirror my own, but excitement as well.  I suppose that, in a way, it was exciting.  A true adventure replete with danger, magic and looming death the likes such as we have not encountered in some time.  I'm glad I wore my least favorite tunic that day for, as with all adventures involving Keledrial, I was certain that it wouldn't be long before I wound up covered in someone's blood.  Pray to Hanali that it was not my own.

          I raised up my lute, cradling it in my arms.  Liralyn brought forth her harp.  We looked down at the village below.  A first spell we cast, to magnify our voices and our song to fill the area…thank the gods the day was still and not windy.

          Then we began to sing.  The song was slow…calming and below many of the Ruathen heard it.  Insidiously it weaved throughout their ranks…wrapping around their emotions…binding their rage.  It intensified, but only in a calming fashion.  Their eyes grew glazed, their faces slack, and they moved slowly, closer, intent on the music…nothing but the music.

          Liralyn played on, but as planned I altered a note in the song, changed the magic a little.  Now a fog began to creep through the village growing strong despite the sun.  Those who were unaffected by the song, the ones who were too strong in will to be bound by the magic looked about, fearfully…knowing, perhaps that some magic was at work.  I kept singing steadily, knowing that if either Liralyn's or my voice or fingers faltered that the song would fail and the entire army would turn on us for the source of the music was not easy to hide.

          Through the gathering fog and mist I caught glimpses of warriors falling, dropped, no doubt, by the weapons of the old men who were on our side.  But there were still too many left that were not being affected.  I felt a moment of panic seize me as I saw several of that number heading towards the cave…to warn the travelers of what was happening.  Where was Sera?!  

          Then, as though my thoughts had conjured her, Sera appeared.  No longer was she the dainty, blue-haired elven child that I was more familiar with.  She had assumed her true form, a form that I have only seen a handful of time over the years since the day I had followed Keledrial into the woods and learned the truth of what his "daughter" really was.

          The last time I had seen her true form had been back on Evermeet and she had been barely bigger than her elven form.  Not so now.  "Little" Sera had to be nearer in length to eight feet long, not including her tail.  Her scales, which had always been a slate-blue color, were beginning to gain a tinge of true silver around the edges.  Her claws were large enough that she could do damage without even trying.  And it was then that I truly realized that Sera was no longer merely Keledrial's daughter, but a dragon…a creature that demanded respect and deserved t be feared.  

          She swooped down, winging her way over the village, her shadow blocking out the sun for a moment.  All of the Ruathen left with the will to act did so, picking up spears, throwing axes and a few rare sets of bows and arrows.  Sera made no sound as she passed over the village and turned around.  The warriors gave chase, trying to shoot at and hit her with their weapons as she did so.   And as Lita had predicted they followed Sera, away from the village and their bespelled fellows, following the only threat they could truly see.  

          I kept singing, my voice beginning to feel the first whispers of strain.  I ignored them.  After all, as a bard I have had to give performances that lasted hours of more.  Of course I was able to rest between songs and take breaks once in while, though.  Here there would be no rest, and no breaks.  I could only hope that whatever was happening below would happen quickly, for, looking down at the large number of entranced Ruathen warriors that were less than a hundred yards from us, if I should falter there will not be much time for me to worry about anything.  There will only be time for death.

                                                                   "Tobias" Raede Elaernan 

______________________________________________________        

We made our way into the cave entrance without any difficulty…but then I didn't really think there would be much trouble. After all, the Ruathen would not have known we were there to stop us, and I do not think they had a way to detect or dispel the invisibility circles that Kalanas and I had cast on the group.  

          On the way down, though, I noticed the strangest thing…the Ruathen people were all very tall.  Now I know that humans do grow tall, and that the people of Rylonar are rumored to be even taller than most, but the height of the warriors was…impossible.  Possible perhaps for a giant, but not humans.  Many of them were near eight feet in height…some even more.  There were those among them as broad across as three men.  It was unnatural and impossible for them to be so large…short of magic that is.  And I began to understand that the water of the well of Rylonar had apparently done more than just alter their thoughts, but it was apparently doing something to their physical forms as well.  Very strange, I thought, for I could not think of a spell, short of polymorph that could do something like this.

          The cave entrance proved to be more of a tunnel as it angled downwards and turned a corner blocking us from seeing what was ahead.  We had taken no more that ten steps down the tunnel when I felt a spell trigger somehow, and all of the magic we had cast on ourselves as preparation for what might be coming, was dispelled.  We all became visible in an instant, and I knew that all of my protection spells had failed as well.  Lita stopped us and glanced about at the walls.  A moment later she pointed out several scorched spots on the stone and dirt.

          "Spell glyphs," she stated.  "They've got the tunnel trapped…probably warded too."  She looked back at us, a grim expression on her face.

          "They probably know we're coming."  I had to agree with her.  If the travelers had the skill and cleverness enough to trap the tunnel with magic, they almost certainly would have had a warding spell here as well to let them know of intruders.

          "How come it didn't go off for the Ruathen that come down here?" Bran wanted to know.

          "They're supposed to be here.  We are not," Kalanas replied, quietly.

          "Well, no sense in turning back now," Ranon declared.  "Can't fix an egg once it's been broke," the dwarf reasoned.  He was right, of course.  You cannot fix a broken egg…but once broken, it can be fried.  I am certain there is some ominous analogy there to be found…something that warned of danger.  I felt that danger as we moved further down the tunnel, Lita stopping every few moments to check for more traps…to disable the ones she found.

          When we had arrived at the hill above Rylonar and peered down a the mass of humanity below, my eyes had searched hard, seeking the one head of silvery-blue among the blond.  I did not find it.  Keledrial was not with the rest of the Ruathen…he had to be down here.  I could feel it.  But as surely as I felt joy that we would find him soon, I felt fear as well for I knew not how he would react and what he would do while under the control of these travelers and their spell.   

          I did not have to wait long to find him.  AS we moved downward, it became quickly apparently that the tunnel was not that deep.  It went perhaps 50 or so feet down, and then turned. Lita motioned us back, and she crept up, peaking around the turn.  A fraction of a moment later she moved back to us.

          "There's a widening in the cavern just ahead," she whispered.  "Just beyond it looks like it widens again.  There are torches and lights beyond the second arch…and I can hear water.  So everyone be ready.  No idea what to expect."  We were ready.  Those of us who used weapons had them out, and those of us who used spells had them prepared.  Lita took all of this in, in a moment, and we stepped out of the tunnel and into the opening.  Before we had gotten more than a dozen feet in, however, there came the sound of chanting…a familiar spell.

          All of the casters recognized it and ran for cover. Fortunately for Bran, Kelly, and Lita they are quick and they were not too badly burned when a ball of fire erupted near the center of where we had been standing. As I moved back out from behind the rock where I had found my cover I saw the fading of an invisibility spell and standing before us, blocking our path, his hands still glow with magic, was my husband.

          It only took a glance for me to realize that the magic of this place was changing him, just as it had apparently changed the rest of the Ruathen.  However the changes in Keledrial horrified me for it appeared as though his nightmare was becoming reality.

          He had grown taller…nearer now to seven feet than six.  His body was broader than it had been before, with his tunic straining at the seams to contain him.  But perhaps the most noticeable changes were to his skin…his face.  His skin was losing the pale bluish hue of the Moon elves…and in places had turned the ruddy pink of humans…his ears seemed shorter…less pointed, becoming more rounded…and his silvery-blue hair was now streaked through with blond…only his eyes remained unchanged.  They were still the same elven shaped green that they had always been but with one major change…as his eyes alighted on us there was no gleam of recognition, no welcome in them.  There was only challenge and malice.  He snapped his fingers and into his hands appeared a sword.  The Fury of Battle, I realized with mounting horror.  

          "Keledrial…"I managed to say his name, even though the person before me did not seem to be him anymore.  He laughed.  His voice was deeper, rougher sounding…even that had changed.  And his laugh was…cruel…and triumphant.

          "Gone!" he stated with a grin.  "As he sought to banish me, so I have banished him.  Now there is only Airk." 

          "Airk, then," Eirik replied to this, stepping forward.  "What is it that goes on here?" the human demanded.  

          "Nothing that you are needed for, old man," Keledrial…no… this was not him but Airk, sneered.

          "I am a First Axe!" Eirik thundered.  Airk laughed.

          "Not anymore.  Soon there won't even be a First Axe of Ruathym anymore!"

          "And who will rule in his place?  Your travelers?" Eirik wanted to know.  Airk nodded.

          "They will do what no First Axe has ever been able to do…crush Luskan to rubble and take the rest of the sword coast, as is our due." 

          "Our due?  These travelers aren't even of Ruathym," Eirik scoffed.  "And would you trust them so easily when they have used foul magic to force the people of the southern villages to aid them?"

          "They understand the value of power," Airk hissed, sounding angry…not a good thing considering what sword was in his hands.

          "And you never will.  Step forward, old man," Airk beckoned, bringing his sword up.  "Step forward and face the fate of the unneeded.  The rest of you will turn back now, or die on my blade," he eyed the rest of us.   Finally, I moved to speak.  I could not let my husband attack his friend.  I had to try and see if he was still there somewhere.

          "Keledrial!  Please!  Don't do this!  You cast the spells so you must still be here.  Don't let him manipulate you anymore!"  I moved within a few feet of him, stepping between him and Eirik.  It was a rash thing to do but I was certain that he would recognize me.  

          "Go!" Lita called. "While he's distracted!"  The others ran past at that point, into the cavern, while Airk stared at me intensely.  When they did so, however, the momentary stillness that came upon him vanished. With a roar of rage he raised his sword, and I watched in horror unable to move, realizing that he did not know me…and meant to kill me.

          Suddenly I was shoved to the side as Eirik slammed into me.  The Fury of Battle came down and the strike that would have killed me only grazed my shoulder instead, as I was thrown to the ground.  The wound was deep…and painful, but not fatal…at least not as long as it was cared for.  It would make casting difficult, I knew, but not impossible.

          I looked up when I heard the clash of blades, saw that Eirik had engaged Airk in combat.  Axe met sword with a clatter that rang throughout the cave.  The battle rage was upon Airk, and Eirik spared a breath to say,

          "Get out of here!  Help the others!"  Then he, too, slipped into a berserk as well.  I did not want to go…did not want to leave my husband until he knew who I was…but there was nothing else I could do.  My abjuration magic would be no help here nor would my enchantments, for berserkers are notoriously resistant to such spells.  I was terrified that if I left one of them would kill the other…but I also knew that such an event would occur even if I stayed.  Yet I remembered my promise to run if the danger was too great…and even though I was running from one danger to another, I felt I would still be keeping my promise.  After all, Keledrial had never said where I was to run to.  

_          In the end, I realized that the best way to stop my husband was to stop the force that had done this to him, that had twisted his will and his mind; and that force was only a few steps beyond where I was._

          I managed to struggle to my feet, and dart past the flying blade edges, clutching my shoulder as best I could.  

          As soon as I entered the room I realized that we were in trouble…perhaps more than could be easily handled, I might add.  The cavern beyond was even larger…a natural cave.  At the far side was a large, still pool.  Nearer, however, were makeshift living quarters.  Beds, tables and chairs had all been brought down here, and judging by the numbers there were at least five of these travelers.

          Not more than a few feet from the edge of the pool, a second battle had begun.  Five men stood there, all of their hands and voices moving through spells.  The men were humans, but not of the Ruathen nationality.  They were, for the most part, smaller and darker in coloring.  I knew by their robes and by their spells that they were all wizards.  

          Among my allies, Kalanas Ranon and Celedor were casting…counterspells to what some of the wizards were spelling. They were unable to counter everything, though, and a huge blast of ice shards and freezing air shot forward from the hands of one of them, catching Celedor and Ranon in its wake.

          Another finished a second spell that caused a gate to open just off to the side of him.  Out of the gate stepped a naked human woman.  The wizard croaked out words in a foul tongue and the woman nodded.  Swords appeared in her hands as she moved forward to attack.

          As she rushed at Kalanas, who was still countering spells, Lita slipped from the shadows and suddenly wrapped what looked like a piece of barbed wire around the woman's bare throat and pulled it so tight it had to be strangling her…then locked it into place and stepped back, drawing a dagger and a short sword. 

          I knew that something was wrong immediately, for the woman did not seem at all bothered by the wire…in fact, she smiled…and then the wire snapped.  The outline of her formed wavered like watching someone through the waves of extreme heat…and she changed.  Standing in her place, so tall that her head was only a few feet from the top of the cavern was a creature that I knew well from studies in summoning.  Now wearing armor, she had the lower body of a snake and the upper body of a human…a human with six arms that is.  The creature is called a Marilith, and short of a balor, there is no demon in the nine hells more powerful or feared for they are the generals of the armies of the demons.  The demoness laughed, and beckoned at us, each of her six arms now holding a weapon…foul sharp looking blades that dripped with some blackish venom.  

          I stared, along with the others for a heartbeat, thoughts filling with dread as we recognized the power of the demoness…and of the wizards who had summoned her.  The clash of battle went on behind us, and fear filled me.  I had never seen anything like this, though I have read many tales. While Keledrial and his friends adventured and saw bloodshed and battle often, I never did.  I felt sick.  I felt afraid.  And when I heard Lita curse, my hopes dropped.  In that moment I felt there was no way we could win.  And when I felt at my most hopeless, I suddenly felt a gentle, yet firm movement in my belly.  As Bran, Kelly, and Lita charged forward to attack the Marilith, I stood very still, feeling it again. 

          My foolishness nearly overwhelmed me, running apace with sudden joy.  I could not believe it, but knew the truth in that moment.  All the previous months of being sick and tired…all the times that Keledrial and the others had assured me it was merely the stress of everything that had happened that was making me ill…I had allowed myself to believe it and had been to foolish to recognize the truth. 

I was pregnant.                                  

          …and I had brought not only myself, but my unborn child…Keledrial's child into peril.  I looked up…at the wizards…at the demon…at my friends and Keledrial's friends fighting.  I felt anger…and the anger gave me hope.  I had to fight…to save them…and myself…no matter the fear I felt.  How dare these wizards do such a thing?! How dare they threaten my family with their machinations?!  Just because one had power does not mean it gives them the right to abuse it.

With those thoughts in my mind, the anger over what was happening burning in me, and the fear that I if I did not do something soon I would lose my family, I summoned up my most powerful spell…a spell I had always hoped I would never need to use.  My wounded shoulder still throbbed fiercely, but this spell required only my voice as the component…nothing somatic…no arcane materials.  Both of my grandparents had were wizards…both of my parents had been as well.  And while I prefer to use magic of protection over any other variety, the attack on Evermeet, whose horror is still so vividly etched in my memories was a terrible and great teacher.  I had not come unprepared, as so many on Evermeet had been when evil struck so suddenly.  The power of the magic I summoned coursed through my body and I took a final, deep breath in. That breath I released in the final culmination of the spell…a scream so fierce that the very sound of it was deadly to my enemies…the wail of the banshee.   

                                                                   Rosealliele Silverspear

========================================================

_          When I slipped the elven vice wire around the neck of the summoned woman and tightened it to killing strength, I assumed that would be the end of her.  I drew out my sword and dagger, meaning to turn my attention back on the wizard that had summoned her, when my "victim" did a most unusual thing…she began to laugh.  My stomach lurched…I hated it when the bad guys did unpredictable things.  Then the vice snapped…as though it had been no more than a string.  The first thought that crossed my mind, was: damn it!  I had paid the drow a great deal of coin to purchase the vice.  Following closely after that thought was the realization that this was no mere mortal woman…and immediately after she shapeshifted into some six-armed snake giant, the only thought passing through my head was: we're fucked._

          The demon-thing looked down at me, beckoning.  Yeah right.  Like I was going to fight straight on.  If I had ever been that stupid, I would've died a long time ago.  So I backed off a few feet, trying to come up with some grand plan to save my ass.  I could not think of a single idea, except to remind myself for the thousandth time since leaving Waterdeep that I was getting far too old for this sort of nonsense.  Adventure and danger on a grand scale is the game of the young.  I should have been relaxing in a chair in my nice, warm, comfortable house in Silverymoon, with Alliana stopping by to say hello.  But no.  Instead I stood there staring hell in the face, with not one idea how to beat it.  Then the oversized, blond teacher from Everall…Bran charged the snake-thing, roaring to Tempus and raising his axe.  Half a moment later Kelly snapped up her longsword and moved in as well…a little less loud but no less foolish.  And it occurred to me that if now was the time I was meant to die, then there was no sense in delaying the inevitable. I figured that if it was my time to go, at least I could go out heroically…it would give Alliana something to tell my grandkids…if the girl ever settles down long enough to give me any.

          I didn't charge in, though…charging is for the bold…and the foolish…like Bran and Keledrial.  I moved in quietly, praying to Mask for either a swift victory or a relatively painless death.  The demon snake thing was distracted my Bran who'd managed to do a bit of damage with his roaring attack…but had left himself wide open in the process.  The Snake woman slashed at him, scoring a line of blood across the warrior's chest, the sword slicing through his armor like paper.  But while she did so, I slipped in, moving across from where Kelly was defending against attacks from two of the demon's arms….a flanking position.  Now, normally I would've aimed my shot for a key vital area, but seeing as I wasn't certain where a vital area on a demon was, I just aimed for the lower back…which was about as high as I could reach without making myself vulnerable to attack.  

          My short sword and dagger sunk in with ease, but once withdrawn, I saw that the demon's wounds began to knit back together with amazing speed.  Damn…just like a troll., she was regenerating my damage.  And unfortunately, my little maneuver garnered me some attention.

          Thus I was forced to spend most of my energy just trying to fend off attacks…any of which might have killed me.  And when a lucky shot on her part nicked me across the back, I immediately felt a burning through the wound…poison.  A glance over at the priests told me that they would be no help.  Both Ranon and Celedor had only just managed to avoid another ice spell, that had them scrambling.  They both looked quite frosty and were spending all their time trying to stay alive…just as I was.  Only Kalanas seemed to be having luck, but even his dark face was strained as he countered spell after spell, forced to dodge what he was not quick enough to beat.

          A glance back at my battle showed that we were not doing much better.  Bran was bleeding freely and profusely from numerous wounds…and Kelly's armors showed tears in the metal, where she had been struck.  I was beginning to tire…too old, I say!  Things were looking grim, and just as I starting to think that we had pretty much botched this attempt at saving the day, I heard a chanting rise above the sounds of battle and spell battle.  I jumped back, avoiding another swipe…the damnable heel spawn was toying with us!  It afforded me a moment to look about…see where the chanting was coming from.  

          At the very edge of the cavern stood Rosealliele.  Keledrial's dainty little wife was standing very still.  One of her hands clutched her shoulder…the sleeves of her dress was torn…pale blue cloth red with blood from the wound.  She seemed to be staring at a point in space somewhere between herself and us, completely immersed in the spell.  

          Then I saw movement behind her…a body slumped to the ground, and from the shadow stepped Keledrial…or Airk…or whatever the hells he was calling himself.  His tunic was splattered with blood, though I could not see a wound.  Even from a distance I could see that his eyes gleamed with the madness of a battle rage.  I knew that he had killed Eirik, for nothing short of death would have stopped the old man. 

          He was headed towards the battle, death evident in every step he took, with his cursed sword at the ready.  Then his gaze focused as he found a target…the one target who was in no position to defend herself.

          I screamed out a warning to Rosealliele, even knowing that she would not hear it…not over the sounds of what was happening throughout the rest of the cavern.  I felt sick…and not just from the poison.  Keledrial raised his sword, while his wife stood, still casting and unknowing that her own husband was about to cut her in half.

          Then something strange happened…and I mean a bit more strange than all the other bizarre stuff that was happening.  Rose's voice began to rise dramatically.  From the wizards, another spell was cast...the variety of which I cannot say.  Neither Kalanas nor the priests moved quick enough to dispel it.  A beam of black energy shot from the wizard's hands…aimed straight at Rosealliele.  From the expression of fear on his face, I think he knew what spell she was casting and had decided to stop her at all costs.

          And in the split second between the casting and arrival of the beam I saw something cross Keledrial's warped face…recognition, I guess.  Rather than killing Rosealliele, he dropped his sword and suddenly stepped between her and the beam.  It struck him squarely in the chest.  He stood for another moment, a small black hole in his chest…then he fell forward…and I could see blood…all over his back…splattered all over Rosealliele's dress.  

          The moment Keledrial hit the ground, his wife began to scream…and not just the normal wife screaming over a seemingly dead husband sort of scream, either.  This scream hurt my ears…to the point that I was certain if she didn't stop I would be deaf…but what happened to the wizards…the travelers, was much worse.  One by one they covered their ears, seeking to block out the sound of Rosealliele's shriek.  One by one they turned gray and slumped to the floor with blood dripping from every hole in their heads…ears, nose, eyes…and when Rosealliele stopped screaming all five of the travelers who had caused so much trouble…were dead.

          In the moments that followed Ranon and Celedor seemed to catch their bearings.  While Bran, Kelly and I continued to try to hold the demon at bay, they began to pray.  At the end of their combined prayers to Corellon and Marthammor, the demon began to thrash about, shouting in a foul tongue…and finally with a wisp of gray smoke, she vanished…banished back to the hells, where she belonged, no doubt.  

          Once gone there was a terrible silence in the cave, broken only by wearied gasps.  The priests immediately rushed over to Bran, Kelly and myself.  They had not seen Keledrial fall, but they could see us…and of we three not one of us was unharmed.  And it was as they were on their way over to me that I started to feel a bit dizzy.  I sat down.  The dizziness didn't stop…and as darkness began to edge in around my vision all I thought was: I hope the priests find out how to neutralize the poison in time...and all I could see was Rosealliele falling to her knees beside the too-still, unchanged form of Keledrial…and all I could hear was the sound of chanting…and water, for the pool had not miraculously vanished when the wizards had died.  And about that time I closed my eyes thinking that a bit of rest would be just the thing.

                                                                             Lita Ravenlight

______________________________________________________

          The last thing I expected as I cast the wail of the banshee spell was for Keledrial to suddenly step in front of me.  I hadn't even seen the danger…hadn't seen the wizard cast the spell at me; a spell that would have killed me had it struck true.  When Keledrial stepped in front of me, I was at the crucial part of the spell, and I did not stop though I saw the expression on his mutated face finally bore the hint of recognition I had searched for earlier.  His sword clattered to the ground, and he turned his back towards me…shielding me.  The beam of energy struck him, and his back exploded in a spray of blood that splattered all over me.  Keledrial pitched forward, onto the ground, hand outstretched only inches from his sword.  He lay very still.  

          I screamed, and that scream became the spell.  It ripped through the wizards and one by one they fell as death claimed them.  I had not, until that day, ever killed anyone.  I had thought it would be more significant that I had done so then.  I thought I would feel more remorse…but I could not.  I hated them, in that instant…hated them as much as I have ever hated anything in my entire life.

          Only when they were dead, and the demon banished did I allow myself to look at Keledrial.  He had not moved, and the pool of blood beneath him was growing deeper.  I fell to my knees beside him, heedless of the blood that covered us both.  My hands moved towards him, shaking.  I had to touch him, to search for life somewhere in his lifeless form.  Yet before my hands could do so there was a flare of light, and a pulse of energy.  The light came from the sword…the Fury of Battle as it seemed to turn red as dark flames erupted along its length.  Keledrial twitched.  His hand slid forward, almost of its own volition and grasped the hilt of the sword.  He stood, although how he managed to do so with such dreadful wounds…a hole as wide as my hand in his back, I do not know.  It had to have been magic.

          He did not look at me, nor did he look either left or right.  He walked straight towards the pool.  Kalanas, who of all of us seemed the least injured, darted to step into Keledrial's path, trying to stop him.  Keledrial batted Kalanas aside as though the dark elf were one of Sera's dolls. 

          As soon as his boots hit the edge of the water the Fury of Battle pulsed again, the power of it radiating outwards like heat.  And suddenly there were two people standing at the edge of the pool, not one, and neither truly Keledrial.

          One was fully human, tall and broad with long blond hair.  The other was tall and thin, with long silvery blue hair…and he was wholly elven.  Both had matching wounds in their backs…and each held one hand on the hilt of the fury of battle.  They continued into the pool matching one another step for step until the water was nearly up to their arms and they were at the center of the pool.  They turned to face each other, and I could see that both of them had green eyes, their eyes almost seeming to glow like a cat's in the dim light. 

 The elf slid his hands down the sides of blade coating the edges in blood as he began to chant.  The human added his own blood to the blade and together they flipped the Fury of Battle so that the point of the sword faced downward, held just above the surface of the water.  If a spell was being cast, I did not recognize it and the words of power that came from the elf were of a sort that I have never before heard.  

They brought the sword down, the human calling out to Tempus.  I cannot say as there was a flash of light or anything so dramatic.  It was as though in the space of time it took me to blink the water and the human were gone, leaving only the wounded, blue haired elf lying in a dry lakebed beside a sword that now appeared to be made of gray stone instead of steel.  The sword was half buried in the stone of the floor, the ground sealing it in so seamlessly it looked as though it had grown there, rather than having been put there.  I did not think that it could be removed, but thought that perhaps it would be better that way.  The Fury of Battle has never caused Keledrial anything but trouble anyhow.

For a moment the silence was absolute as we all tried to accept and puzzle out what had just happened. The pool was gone…as was the mysterious human, and the elf who lay so still beside the sword was no more the Keledrial we all knew than the one who'd attacked us had been. 

Celedor was the first to respond.  The priest, looking slightly worse for the wear, hurried out to the elf and began a powerful healing prayer.  About then I somehow managed to find the strength to rise and go over to where all the others were.  Bran and Kelly were both covered in numerous wounds that Ranon and Celedor had already begun to heal.  Lita was lying down, looking tired and weak as Ranon prayer to his dwarven goddess to remove the poison from the human woman's body.  Kalanas met me halfway to the pool and took hold of my good arm, steadying me.

"Are you all right?" the dark elven wizard asked.  I shook my head, certain that I was not in any sense of the term, for while I had only been slightly wounded compared to the others, my heart felt so fragile I was certain it would break at any moment…at the moment that some one would tell me that Keledrial was dead. 

Celedor healed the wounds of the fallen elf as best he could.  We watched as the hole in his back closed, tissues bone and sinew reknit itself back together.  When the prayer was finished the wound still looked angry and red, not completely closed, and still oozing a bit of blood but no longer did it look so terribly life threatening.  In a wheezing voice Celedor gasped out,

"I dare not attempt another healing. Too much magical healing can be as bad for a wound as the wound itself." I knelt beside the priest, and tried to turn the elf over.  Realizing what I was trying to do, Kalanas and Celedor aided me, even as I heard the others moving closer.  Gently we turned the elf onto his back trying not to harm him any further.  When I saw his face I knew it was Keledrial…but once more, he had changed…he was no longer as he had been before coming here.

Keledrial had always been tall and broad, and while his height had not changed, he was far slimmer than he had been by nearly half over.  What was left of his tunic hung far too loosely about him.  His hands were thinner…and his face as well.  In the past I know that many people had mistaken my husband for a half elf…but looking at him now, I knew that no one could ever make such a mistake.  He reminded me more of a grown version of the boy I had known on Evermeet…as he might have become if Ruathym had never touched him.

"What happened?" Kelly asked, breaking the silence of my study.

"I don't know," murmured as I touched his face, feeling the changes there.  "Maybe it was the magic of the pool."

"Is he going to be okay?" she asked, though I am not certain to whom she had directed her question.

"There's no way to be certain.  He'll live…the beam did not hit anything vital, although I fear one of his lungs may be damaged…but it will heal in time. Still, there's no way of knowing exactly what else the magic has changed in him," Celedor replied, softly.

"Let's get him out of here," Bran stated gruffly.  The human warrior bent low and picked up my husband with surprising gentleness.  Lita was having trouble standing, so Kelly went to aid her.  Kalanas and Celedor both moved at the same time to help me rise.  In the end, Kalanas took my arm, while Celedor chanted an intermediate level prayer to heal the wound in my shoulder.  

On our way out we found the body of Eirik.  He was quite dead, numerous sword wounds scarring his body.  A large gash across his middle had nearly cut him in half.  He had a sort of smile on his face as though he had been happy in dying…even though it had been one of his dearest friends who had slain him. I closed my eyes not wanting to see any longer. He had died trying to buy the rest of us time to defeat the wizards, and while the Ruathen might think such a death…in battle, was a good death, it was still death to me.   I wanted to cry.  But I restrained myself, thinking that I had to be strong a little longer…that Keledrial when he awoke…if he awoke would need me to be strong for him. 

As we made our way back up the tunnel I tried not to think of everything that might have happened to Keledrial. I tried to remind myself that my husband was still alive.  And I tried to keep hope that everything would be all right once we got someplace safe…somewhere we could rest.  I didn't dare allow myself to think otherwise, for it was only that small bit of hope I had that kept me standing and conscious when all I wanted to do was slip into reverie and forget that I was covered in Keledrial's blood…that I had killed five people…that I had nearly died and just as nearly killed the baby that I hadn't even realized I was carrying.  As we got to the end of the tunnel I could see that the haze of fog from Tobias' spell was gone…and that rays of sun were beginning to pierce through the overcast day.  We had done everything we could.  I had to believe that.  Still, as we stepped out of the tunnel, I sent up a few prayers…to Sehanine Moonbow…and to Corellon as well, praying that they would give me my husband back, whole and himself once more…vowing to donate all of my gold to their churches if they did so.  

                                                                   Rosealliele Silverspear

________________________________________________________________________

I sang until my throat was beginning to hurt, and every breath that passed seemed to take an hour or more. Still, this was unlike any performance I had ever done before, and I think the stress of knowing how many lives were on the line if I faltered made the whole situation seem to take that much longer.  Below, in the fog, I could hear the cries of death, the sounds of battle as the old Ruathen fought their sons and daughters and friends, trying to keep them from going to the aid of the travelers. The clash of weapons was not unfamiliar to me, bringing back the days of adventuring I had passed in the company out of Waterdeep.  It brought to mind the years I had spent traveling in the circus with my parents…my mother a singer who could perform a song even while hanging upside down, or standing astride on a horse galloping through hoops of fire….and my father who could throw daggers with such accuracy that he could outline a persons form with blades, each one never further than a hair's breadth from the skin.  I had never felt fear in the circus, for such feats were commonplace.  It was not until I met Keledrial and the others that I fully began to comprehend true danger…and all the emotions that come along with it.

As I stood on that hill top, with the army of Ruathen staring, entranced, below, it occurred to me that while I was perhaps never very brave in battle, that bravery takes many different forms, and that what I was doing was its own sort of.  Keledrial had once remarked to me, in his ever-scathing tone of voice, that I used him as one would use a shield.  But this time it was I who was his shield, in a way, for it was my song and Liralyn's that shielded the others from a battle that could not be won.  The feeling that I was finally showing some courage gave me strength and I felt my voice renewed….as though I could sing on with ease.

Sera flew overhead, wailing loudly.  Startled, I looked up to see why.  She had been shot…an arrow that had managed to get past her stoneskin enchantment had pierced her tail…and I realized that if her enchantment had worn off already,. Then we were running out of time.  Where were the others, I thought wildly, trying to think of something else I could do.  I glanced over to Liralyn.  She looked back, her voice never faltering.  I could see the concern in her eyes. She has quite lovely eyes I might add…too bad that she's Kalanas'…else I might have been tempted to seduce her.  

Though the decision was difficult, I broke my song and called to Sera knowing that she would hear me, for draconic sense are eve keener than elven ones.

"Sera!  Fly to me and change back!" I yelled.  I couldn't let her continue to fight without protection…dragon though she was the number of Ruathen warriors chasing her would have killed her with a few more lucky shots, for she has no battle sense, being so young.  Besides…better I die at the hands of the Ruathen than Keledrial's if he finds out I let something happen to Sera, I reasoned.

My song's magic began to decay…holes began to appear in the fog as it started to dissipate in the sun…warriors began to shake their heads; clearing the daze that the magic had inflicted.  Sera landed behind me with a loud thud, wailing that her tail hurt.  I looked down the hill one more time.  As the fog cleared I could see that most of the elders who had accompanied us were dead….and the army was beginning to regain their wits.  Working quickly I grabbed the arrow shaft and snapped it in two, then yanked both of the pieces out of Sera's tail.  She screamed loudly, still sounding very much like a little girl, her ear piercing shriek sounding odd coming from such a large dragon.  I vow she nearly killed me when she swung her wounded tail at me, shouting that I had hurt her. I wound up flat on my back, the wind knocked out of me.

"Change back!" I managed to gasp at her, knowing that some of the wound would be healed when she shifted forms anyhow, for that is the nature of polymorph.  Besides, I had to hope that when the army came after us they would leave her alone, being that she would appear as a child, and not a dragon.  When Sera did not comply, I started to worry.  But then Liralyn spoke,

"Sera, change to your elven form." Her tone was that of a mother, and as such Sera complied.  It is a wonder to me how all woman who have born children can affect such a tone that makes even grown men obey as though they were once more children in short clothes.  My relief at Sera being once more in her more familiar form, still sniffling loudly, soon vanished in the stark realization that Liralyn too, had broken her song.  Below, shouts of anger rose up to my ears, and I knew it would not be long now.

Liralyn gave me a weary, resigned smile.  I sighed, thinking that this was not the way I had intended to die…although come to think about I don't think there is a way I would prefer to die…except by not doing it.

I managed to stumble to my feet and watch as the Ruathen began to regain a degree of order, some of them shouting to find the "beast", while others called to kill the sorcerers who'd bewitched them. And then, quite without warning, there came a pulse of energy that rolled across the battlefield and village like a wave of heat. And in the span of time it took me to draw a breath, the Ruathen stopped, and all traces of magic, including my spell and Liralyn's vanished.  For a long moment there was a terrible silence…it seemed more out of place in the suddenly bright morning than the sounds of battle had.  Ruathen looked about, glances at one another, at the bodies…at where they were.  Then came the explosion of voices and whispers as the questions began.  How did I get here?  What have we done?  What has happened here?  Who killed the elders?  What happened to the well?  Why does my head hurt so?  And on and on…

It was as though none of them remembered anything they had done, many saying that they only remembered coming to Rylonar and being given some water to drink.  There were shouts of horror as the Ruathen with blood on their weapons realized that it was they who had killed the elders…some of them family.  There whispers of "sorcery" and prayers to Tempus for guidance and protection.  

I felt small hands grip my tunic as Sera grabbed hold of me, clinging to me.

"Uncle Toby…where's Daddy and Mommy?" she wanted to know.  I looked to the cave/well entrance.  The guards there looked just as confused as the rest.  I did see a few of the elders who had not been killed making their way in that direction, shoving aside dazed Ruathen youth, being trailed by those they pushed aside.  Still, there was no sign of the others.

"We need to get down there," I replied, not quite answering her question.  I wasn't certain what had caused that strange pulse of energy that had released the Ruathen, but I felt it had to have been Lita and the others.  I hoped they were all right.

We made our way down the hill, startled Ruathen moving out of way as we passed, all staring in shock.  We met the elders halfway there, each of them giving us a grim greeting.  More than two thirds of them had fallen in battle.  We moved as a group towards the former well of Rylonar…and just as we got there shadows moved out of the darkness.

My heart beat painfully when I saw them…all of them so wounded and bloodied.  Rosealliele, covered in blood from neck to knees looked far too pale.  Lita leaned heavily on Kelly, both of them looking very much worse for the wear.  But it was the still, blood-soaked form that Bran carried over his shoulder that made me freeze with sudden grief.  I knew it was Keledrial…and he looked quite dead. I couldn't say anything. Couldn't even move to stop Sera when she darted forward, screaming for her father.  In that moment all I could think that Keledrial…a veritable force of nature in my life for the past few decades…was dead.  It didn't seem possible.  No matter how wounded he got, or what trouble he managed to land in, he'd always managed to triumph…and make it look easy to do so in the process.  It was incomprehensible to me that whatever had happened here could have stopped him…true the danger had been high, but then so had fighting Handrax…and the mercenaries…and the orcs…why should this be the thing to defeat him?  He was my dearest friend…and if the truth to be told one of the only ones I had, for my traveling ways have never been condusive to creating long term friendships or relationships.

Then I heard what Celedor was saying to Sera.  The priest had managed to intercept Sera before she could get to Bran…and Keledrial.  She struggled, threatening to bite him if he didn't let her go.  Celedor, however, always calm kept repeating to the little dragon that Keledrial was alive, but he was hurt and needed to rest.  Alive.  I couldn't contain a sigh of relief.  

"But where is Eirik?" one of the elders interrupted.  

"He has gone to the halls of Tempus," Bran stated firmly.  This was followed by considerable murmuring and noises of surprise.  

"And them traveler wizards are dead too," Ranon added.  For once I could see he was smart enough to have hidden his wings under a cloak…although it made him look as though he had a hunchback.  It was bad enough that the Ruathen had to deal with so many of us "alfar", without having to try to rationalize a winged dwarf.  Honestly, after all this time you'd think Ranon would have done something about his wings…if nothing than to at least try to fit in with his fellows!

A blur of activity followed as the Ruathen began to try and straighten out what had happened.  No one was certain of anything, aside from the fact that magic had most assuredly been at work here.  Ian, Eirik's son was quick to take charge, although he seemed just as baffled and angry as the rest of them. He gathered together the leaders of the different villages and began to sort things into order.  And command went out for priests and shamans to do what they could for the injured…and to begin preparing the rites for the dead.  Ian did not flinch when his father's body was brought from the tunnels, cut almost in half…not the work of a wizard.  I immediately had my suspicions, but did not voice them.  

Ian spoke with us, informing us that he had long known of Keledrial and recognized him as a friend of his father's.  That, along with the words of the elders, seemed to earn us his trust.  The human quickly had a house cleared out for us to rest in.  I followed the others in to the building, a wooden dwelling with a thatched roof, and a single, large, room for the interior.  A fire was started in the hearth, but it did little to dispel the chill that seemed tangible in the air…the aura of fear that lingered on.  Bran lay Keledrial's body down on the lone bed in the room, and I was shocked to see the sheer amount of blood he was covered in.  I prayed that it wasn't all his, but could not be certain.  Celedor and Ranon rolled his onto his stomach, and using a dagger, Celedor cut the remains of the destroyed tunic away.  The wound was hideous, and I had trouble grasping that Keledrial could have possibly survived it long enough to be healed.  The middle portion of the right side of his back looked as though an ogre had punched its fist through it.  Even healed, the wound looked ragged, and raw, as though there had not been enough skin left of Keledrial's back, and the healing had caused what remained to stretch to try to cover the wound.  I was glad I had not eaten much that day for I could feel my stomach lurching at the mere sight of it.  So I turned away.  Scars were one thing…this was different.  My mind reeled and I tried to think of a spell…any spell that could have done such damage.  Nothing came to mind…but then I am not a wizard, either.  

The others sat down, spreading out blankets and whatever they could find to rest on.  Everyone who had gone down into the cave looked terribly weary…all of them bruised and cut and torn from whatever they had seen and done battle with.  Lita immediately fell asleep…at the time, I hoped that she was just asleep, anyhow.  When it became apparent that there was nothing else to be done for Keledrial, Ranon and Celedor went about, aiding the rest of the group.  Rose refused help, demanding water and a cloth instead.  Someone fetched it for her, bringing not only soap but clean clothing for all of us, as well.  They were probably hoping, as I hoped, that she meant to clean herself of the macabre veneer of blood she was covered in.  However, she merely took the water, sitting beside Keledrial, and with a shaking hand she started to wash the blood and mud off him, instead.  Her eyes were dry, her face set in a strange emotionless mask. The sight of her like that somehow had me feeling more ill than thee sight of Keledrial's wound.  Rosealliele, from all I have been able to discern of her, is not the sort of woman who hides her emotions…and seeing her do so…it made me nervous.  

Not wishing to ponder the situation any longer, I decided to get out of the house.  So I slapped a faint smile on my face and informed the others that I was going to go try to find out what the wizards were about….wizards being notorious about having notes and journals and such.  No one protested.  So out I went, and past the newly stationed guards, into the depths of the formal well.

I saw the dwelling place of the travelers…I saw their bodies as they were being dragged out…I saw the blood splattered everywhere…the evidence of powerful spells in the forms of melting ice and scorched rock…I saw the Fury of Battle plunged halfway into the ground, no longer made of steel, but stone.  I imagined the story that the Ruathen would tell about it, years from now…even centuries until the truth of the tale was more myth than reality.  It looked to be the stuff of a legend…and I suppose that was what it was.  I did not touch the blade, however. It seemed a bad idea.

I focused my attentions on the belongings of the travelers…trunks and drawers and bags and the like.  It did not take me long to find what I was searching for.  I sat there and read the account of Gerald Faustrian of Luskan…one of the infamous wizards of the Arcane Brotherhood of the Host Tower of Luskan.

The five travelers had all been members of the Arcane Brotherhood…students together learning the arcane arts among the Luskan wizards.  Gerald had come from a wealthy merchant family who believed that there interest would be best served by having him among the wizards, for it is well known that the overwizards and the Archmage of the Host Tower rule Luskan beneath the thin veneer of the council of the High Captains.  Crucial decisions are not made in Luskan without their "by-your-leave."

With time spent among the Brotherhood came knowledge, and access to libraries of books that Candlekeep scholars would love to have.  Gerald, the leader of his particular cabal, and a summoner, read of accounts of magical pools and became fascinated by the idea.  He took summoning creatures to learn more about the pools…even summoning demons.  I gathered from the way he wrote about doing such so casually, that summoning beings from the lower planes was a commonplace thing among the Arcane Brotherhood. However, when an overwizard by the name of Jostek began to take interest in what Gerald and the rest of his cabal were doing, Gerald summoned another demon…this one for a purpose far different than information.  He ordered the demon to kill the elder…and that was when the trouble seemed to begin.  

From what he wrote I gathered that when he had the elder killed, Gerald began to get a taste for power…and murder.  His friends…all like-minded souls he had easily molded to his will and ambitions never hesitated to follow him.  One by one more elders in the Brotherhood began to have "accidents"…suffer "mishaps."  But as with all people of such evil bent, Gerald and his cronies got arrogant…and overconfident. They were caught when one of their targets caught wind of their impending attack and managed to banish the demon that had been sent to kill him…but not before gaining the identities of the ones who'd summoned it.

Gerald and the others only just managed to escape the Host Tower when their intended victim turned attacker, with intent to kill.  No longer able to return to Luskan or the tower, the group of wizards made their way to Waterdeep…one of the few cities in the north of the sword coast that Luskan and the wizards do not dare meddle with.  From there Gerald grew angrier by the entry.  His plots grow more and more fantastic until he starts to here stories from Ruathym pirates…tales of a village in Ruathym, called Rylonar and how the water there seems to make the villagers grow stronger and taller than most….almost unnaturally strong.

From then on things went pretty much as I would have expected.  Careful study went into the village, and then a farce of being stranded has Gerald and his compatriots brought to shore…into the very heart of Rylonar by the villagers. Gerald then used a levitate spell to lower himself down to the water, when night had fallen and his "rescuers" were sleeping.  A touch was all it took to gain control of the pool, to corrupt it to his whim, Gerald wrote.  An army was what he desired…an army strong enough to crush Luskan and the Host Tower to ruins…all out of a desire for revenge and power.

When I had finished the journal and emerged from the depths of the well, night had fallen.  I made my way back to the house where the others were.  Kelly, Bran, and Lita were all asleep.  Kalanas looked to have slipped into reverie.  Celedor and Ranon were speaking quietly in a corner, but both of them looked as though they, too, were in desperate need of a rest.  On the bed, Keledrial was still unconscious…Sera lay sleeping beside him.  Only Rosealliele was wide away, her eyes barely blinking, her form unmoving as she gazed down at her husband intently…as though she was watching every breath he took.  Someone had convinced her to change her clothing, thankfully, for she was no longer bloody, now dressed in a woolen gown that had to belong to a Ruathen woman, judging by the size of it.

I walked in and found a fairly acceptable place to sit down.  I decided I would tell them what I had found come the morning.  After all I was beginning to feel; tired as well.  And before I managed to find reverie I finally took note of my appearance and laughed.  I got strange looks for doing so, but so what?  It was a momentous occasion after all, and deserving a note...a bit of irony.  My tunic…my worst tunic that I had worn in anticipation of a battle was spotless.  It was the first time I have ever been in a battle within a mile of Keledrial and managed to not get any blood on me.

When morning came I explained, not only to my friends, but to the elders and leaders of the Ruathen, my findings in the journal.  No one seemed surprised at the wizard's deception.  Only angry at the perfidy of it all.  And the main worry was whether the pool was gone for good.  I did not have to worry about answering that, though, for the shamans of Tempus had been awake all night praying for that very same answer.  Their reply: yes.  According to their prayers and the response given by Tempus, the pool was gone, dispelled by the magic of the Fury of Battle and the warrior who wielded it: Keledrial.  The claimed they would continue their prayers to see if there was anything that could be done for Keledrial, but in the meantime Ian and the elders declared the Keledrial was a hero…along with Eirik and the others elders who perished.  Funeral ceremonies were being planned for the honored dead, but it would be several days before the funerals or the burials actually occurred.  So we had plenty of time to wait…to recover.

We waited for some change in Keledrial, but he did not so much as stir.  On the second day, Lita finally awoke, looking pale and sickly, but alive and full of her usual sarcastic wit.  A third day passed, and a fourth….and still we waited, and prayed for Keledrial to awake…beginning to fear, though, that such an event might never happen.

                                                          "Tobias" Raede Elarnon        


	25. Chapter 23

This one's a bit short, but I thought I'd put it up anyhow.  Thanks for the Reviews!  More Please!  Azurielle

After I jumped over board and stepped foot on Ruathym, as I have stated, I remember very little of what occurred after.  It was as though I, Keledrial, had been locked away within my own mind and as much as I railed and screamed, I could not find a way out.

            There was no way for me to tell what time had passed, or what had happened.  I felt despair.  Rage.  I did not know what to do, for it was as though I was lost in a room with no exit and no light.  

            Then I heard my wife.  Her voice cut through the darkness, and though I could not hear her words, I sensed the anguish ion her tone.  She needed me.  I knew that, and knowing it gave me the strength to redoubled my efforts.  I fought, focusing all my will outwards until I managed to strike on a second sentience…Airk.  

            :Let me out!: I shouted at him.  

:No!: His mental reply was curt and…distracted.  I sensed a weakness, a division of attention that allowed a crack to appear in the seamlessness of the room.  As air finds a way, so I used the crack to escape the prison he'd put me in.  

Once more I inhabited my body, feeling the sensation of weight and strength.  My arms were moving, but I was not fully in control…I still had no true sense of what was happening.  I continued to focus on Airk, hoping to find another weakness to use.  He paid no attention to me, though for his mind was fully engaged in the battle he was waging.  He needed pay no attention to me, for the corruption of the magic within us gave him the strength…while it seemed to leach it from me. I could hear his thought, though…not as clearly as my own…but still my own.  Confusing, no?

:Stop fighting, Eirik!: I heard him say it over and over.  A sense of anger…and of sudden anguish.  My hands were sticky…blood.  Movement, lurching and sudden.  A sense of a target.  My arms came up high to bring down a blade.  Then, once more, Rosealliele's voice found me.  She was chanting…words to a spell I did not know.  Airk's thoughts, filled with the incoherence of battle rage sudden cleared for a moment.

:Stupid woman…making us weak….interfering in battles.  It was Lita I wanted, not _her!: And with the upward motion of the sword, I wrested back my vision, saw my wife before us, her back to us…undefended…a target.  She was bleeding already…there was blood on my sword. I battled with a surge of desperate fear and panic.  Our arms froze as both he and I sought to move them in opposite directions.  He still retained control of our voice and would not allow even a breath of warning out.  _

A second chanting reached my ears…a beam of black at the corner of my eye…my wife the target.  At that moment I abandoned all struggles with Airk, save one.  I took control of our legs…my legs and propelled my body forward, into the path of the beam.  Then pain.  Terrible, searing pain…lines of agony shooting through my very soul.  Then the taste of blood in my mouth, and a collision with stone that felt almost comfortable compared to what the beam had done.  There wasn't even time to scream as both Airk and I tried to retreat from the agony.

I knew I was dying.  Blood in my throat told me that.  What the spell was, I didn't know…and so couldn't know what to do about it.  And just when the pain reached a critical point…where it seemed that the blackness of death was inevitable, I felt a soothing wash of energy fill me.  The pain subsided…numbed, and it was as though I could no longer feel, my senses blanketed.

I stood, sword in hand, and moved towards a large pool of water, suddenly knowing that it was what I must do.  Though my friends and family fought, I saw none of them…it was as though myself, alone, stood in the cavern, the pool before me, so still.  Airk did not complain or fight.  Water filled myboots and Airk was gone me…his thoughts, his influence, and every trace of his prescense, gone in one instant.  I never looked anywhere but straight ahead, yet I felt he was there beside me.

Arcane words filled my mind as the water of the pool rose ever higher around me.  Words of power that I knew would not be found in any spellbook.  As it was when I had reforged the Fury of Battle and had suddenly known what to do, so it was now.  I knew how to banish the pool and reverse its effects.  Yet as I began to speak the words aloud, I suddenly felt I did not have the strength or even the desire to finish the rite.  I knew that I had to raise the sword and bring it down, into the stone from whence the water came…but I couldn't.  I started to falter.  How could I destroy magic?  Then hands closed over mine, and I looked directly in front of me…and saw Airk.  I knew him for it was my mind's vision of what he should have looked like…blond and tall and wide, as any other Ruathen, but with bright green eyes.  He brought the sword up, along with my hands.  He raised it above the pool.  In his eyes, I saw the determination to destroy the pool…the determination I lacked.  There was challenge there, familiar as my own name.  And as we had always fought, I sought to best him, even now…to prove that I was just as strong as he.  I continued chanting once more, purging the words from my mind, and as I did so, I lent my strength to his. We drove the Fury of Battle downward as the last word escaped me to be forgotten.  The strength of the thrust pierced the stone of the pool's bottom.  I could feel the magic of the sword surging wildly as it sought to absorb the pool.  Then, as a blade is sheathed, so the Fury of Battle seemed to seal the magic of the pool…and indeed, the pool itself.  Quite suddenly the magic that had always hummed through the Fury of Battle vanished…and what had been leather and steel became stone.  And all this happened in less than the time it took to draw a breath.  

And when the moment after came, drawing a breath was something could not seem to do…not with the pain once more tearing through my body. Once more, the floor and I became aquainted as all consciousness fled.

Yet I was not unconsiouss for long.  When next I awoke it was on a field.  The grass was long and green.  The sun shone brightly from a noon apex, and the day was clear as glass.  The field was unbroken by trees or shrubs or any kind of disjunction in the conformity…and that included footsteps, or broken stalks of grass to mark my passing.  

I was not alone.  Two stood before me…one human, one elven.  The elf was tall, his hair golden as the sun, his form perfect, strength evident in his pose.  He worse a sky blue cloak about his shoulders and amulet about his neck.  The amulet bore the familiar symbol of a crescent moon within a large circle.  On his wrists were a set of battle guantelts that no mortal could possibly hope to replicate, for the power and perfection were unmistakable.  From his appearance, the longsword on his belt, one might have mistaken the elf for a gold elven fighter…but I knew, and knew it instinctively, for I had met him before, that this was no ordinary elf.

Nor was the human ordinary, either.  At twelve feet tall, the human's heavy plate armor seemed battered and bloodied by combat.  A massive war helm hid his face, but his gaze upon me was a palpable force.  In his hand, at his side was a large, black great sword, notched and stained from use.  The symbol on his armor, of a sword wreathed in flame, encased by a shield was scarred, but still recognizable.

I fell to my knees before them, no wishing to offend either, as I lowered my gaze.  

"My Lord Corellon," I managed to get out.  "My Lord Tempus," Airk spoke, using my voice.

"Rise," Tempus demanded, his voice like thunder across the still field.  "Face us as a warrior," he added.  I did so, bringing my gaze up to meet them once more.

"Do you know why you are here?" Corellon asked, his voice far gentler than Tempus', but no less intimidating.  I nodded, feeling I knew the answer.

"I am dead."  Corellon smiled and shook his head.

"Nay…not yet.  Your life is in your own hands now, and by your will alone do you live."

"Then why _am I here?" I dared to ask._

"Because you have before you a choice before you can return to your mortal form," Corellon replied. 

            "Will you be Airk or will you Keledrial?" Tempus asked.  Confused, I spoke once more.

            "What do you mean? I am both."   

            "That has been true, but it can no longer be so, for the purpose requiring the merging is gone," Corellon stated.

            "Purpose?" I wanted to know.  

            "Everything that has happened to you happened for a reason, Keledrial," Corellon explained.  "You were born with the magical talent to channel the spell to remove the pool…you were born with the skill to remake the magic in the Fury of Battle…but had you continued the path of your life, you would not have had the knowledge of desire to do either.  To help Ruathym, you had to become Ruathen.  That is why your ship was wrecked.  On Ruathen, Airk was created.  In him was all the skill needed to reforge the blade, and the desire to see Ruathym saved from folly.  But still you had to go further.  Each adventure, even your choice in party members brought you closer to finding the Fury of Battle…your restlessness to reforge it.  And finally, the call to bring you to use it.  But the sword could not be wielded by any but a Ruathen…its power could not be released by any but a wizard of high mage ability…in short, a combination that would never have naturally occurred, was created…in you."   

My mind reeled as I considered the ramifications of his words.  What he was saying, in essesnce, was that all the major events of my life had pushed me to find and recreate one item and gain all of the skills and strength and desire to wield it for the one purpose it was meant for.  There was a flash of anger…a sense of betrayal at being so used by the gods…at having my life so manipulated by them.  But it faded quickly, for I knew that it was their right as gods to do so…still, it was hard to accept that so many terrible things had happened to me all to force my personality to split into two beings that could, together, accomplish one deed. 

"But now that it has been done and Ruathym saved from the corruption of the pool, you must chose whom it is you wish to truly be…Airk or Keledrial."

"But I am Keledrial…and Airk, he's just a part of me," I insisted, afraid at that moment that to choose would mean that I would loose everything that accompanied the name.  

"You must choose," Corellon insisted.  "You have done the service we needed you for, and it is time now for a voice to be silent again…this time for good."  I knew he was referring to the time on Evermeet when he had spoken to me by the river…the day I thought Airk was gone at last.  In truth he had only been silenced.

"But why ask when you know that I would choose to be me?" I wanted to know.

"Are you so certain?" Tempus asked.  I froze, for I knew that he was right.  I was not so certain that I wanted to be Keledrial.  It had not been so bad being Airk…I liked being a warrior…I liked battle and being strong.  A part of me even liked being feared.  If I was Airk, my responsibilities would vanish.  No more Zelairwyn to worry about…no more teaching, or confining parents or position.  I would be free to live my life as I chose to.  There would be nothing to tie me down.  But if I chose to be Airk, I would lose magic and the sense of power that only casting a spell and becoming one with the weave could give me.  More than that, I would lose Rose and Sera.  

_:There could always be Lita_: Airk thought at me, and for the first time I understood why it was I had always felt so fascinated by Lita, even though I knew her so little…Airk had been fascinated with her.  

:_But it's Rose that I love:_ I protested.  

_:Rose is weak,:_ Airk whispered.  _:I nearly killed her.  She will make you weak.  If you banish me, you will be the same sickly thing you were,: he warned.  Dread filled me…and a war tore at me.  I wanted to be strong…and I feared being weak.  I wanted to be both…I wanted it all, but the gods, my gods had told me to choose.  I had to.  But I did not want to.  _

:_Choose me, stay strong,:_ Airk cajoled, persuasively.  

:_But Rose,:_ I thought, anguished.  How could I give her up?  She was my light.  She would never want a human…and if I chose Airk, she would fade without Keledrial.  

_:You'll be weak,:_ Airk warned, angrily.

"I don't care," I stated suddenly.  "If I was meant to be weak then so I must be, but I'll not sacrifice Rosealliele for strength.  That would be the true weakness."

"Then you've made your decision?" Corellon asked.  I nodded.

"I am Keledrial Nightstar and always will be," I declared.

"And so you are, and will be as you were meant to be before we interfered," Corellon replied.  Tempus nodded once, and they were gone…and so was Airk's voice…and I knew that this time he was gone for good.  

And then there was only darkness, and a return of the pain.


	26. Chapter 24

Here is the nest part of the story.  It is most definitely wearing down now…in part because, while Keledrial is the sort of character who could continue writing, getting into one misadventure after another, I am getting tired of writing about him.  This most recent entry may seemed a bit strained at parts, mostly due to the fact that I am having trouble writing at the moment, but it can always be put down to Keledrial's constant state of confusion and stress.  Anyhow, I hope you enjoy, and warn that there will probably be only one more chapter after this one, at which point we will say farewell to Keledrial, that I might be able to finally finish some of the other stories I have in my mind and have been working on. Please continue to review, and give me feedback as it is the only way writers can feel justified in wasting their time, and learn what they are doing wrong with their writing.  As always, thank you to all of you who have reviewed and especially those who continue to review.  You, alone, have made this story reach as far as it has.  Thank you.                 Azurielle

Days passed without my knowing. Voices came and went, sounds without words.  And finally I began to awaken once more.  I opened my eyes to darkness.  But after a few moments my vision adjusted and I realized that it was night, faint light coming from the door of the house I was in.  I lay on a bed, straw-filled and covered with woolen blankets.  There was warmth against my chest, and it took me no time to realize that it was my wife pressed against me.  My back throbbed intensely, the sensation spreading from just below my shoulder blade, down to nearly my waist.  And within the throb was a tingling sensation…and a stretching that was reminiscent of healing magic still at work.  I took a breath…and in despair I soon realized how very hard it was to do.  I could not fill my lungs, and attempting to do so caused tiny spears of pains to lance throughout the right side of my chest.  A dull acceptance began to sink in.  I was, once more, weak.  And with all my memories of Ruathym, and of being strong when Airk was a part of me still my own, it seemed to hurt that much more.  For now I remembered what it was to be able to move freely, without fear of losing my breath…I was no longer a child who knew of nothing else but.  And at that moment, I almost wished that the gods had taken all of Airk's memories along with his presence for then, at least, I wouldn't have to recall all of the things I would no longer be able to do.

I forced myself to sit up, although the effort to do so had me gasping as the pain intensified.  This was like no wound I had ever suffered previously.  Looking about the house and room I was in, I recognized it to be my old home…Brander and Ingrid's home.  The bed I lay on was theirs…a pallet next to the fireplace that was now being used by Tobias had once belonged to me…to Airk.  But other than that, there was nothing left of them here.  All of their things were gone, even that which I had left behind.  Buildings materials being so rare to come by, though, I was certain that someone else had been making use of this place.

Peering about the room I counted bodies and came up three short.  Neither Lita, Bran, nor Kelly were in the room.  Everyone else was, and they all slept.  Liralyn lay up against Kalanas, the dark elf sleep, as drow do not use the reverie…Liralyn's eyes open, but glazed as she walked the path of her memories to rest.  Tobias, also in reverie sat seated against the far wall, Celedor only a few feet from him.  Ranon was curled up on the floor snoring fit to wake the dead. I dared to look down at Rosealliele, the one person for which I had chosen to become weak once more.  She was still; her mind in reverie.  Her eyes were closed, for she had taken to resting as I rested.  The dress she wore was far too big for her…and it seemed strange to see her wearing the woolen and homespun of a Ruathen girl, rather than the linens and silks she is accustomed to wearing.  

Looking at her I detected an odd bulge on one of her shoulders, and so I pushed back the part of her dress there.  Bandages…with the faintest hint of pink staining the top layer.  She had been wounded.  And I thought of Airk's mind during the battle, remembered having heard Rosealliele's voice.  He had done this to her, was my first thought. But that was closely followed by a second and more truthful realization.  I had done it to her.  I had brought her here, and if I had only fought a little harder against Airk she might not have been hurt.  Remembering the beam, and Airk's intention to kill Rose, I felt sick knowing that she might have died.  I never should have let her come. 

I pushed back Rose's dress with a shaking hand when a sudden murmuring, and the softest sigh drew my attention to a lump under the covers just past my wife.  Drawing back the blanket I saw Sera's face, peaceful in sleep.  My mind reeled suddenly, trying to figure out how Sera could possibly be here when I well knew that she was in Sundabar with the dwarves.  Yet, she seemed real enough, and felt real enough.  She snuggled closer to Rose with another sigh. 

The room seemed to close in on me, and I had to get outside.  How I managed to get out of the bed and stumble out the door without waking anyone is certainly a matter of speculation.  Maybe I was quieter than I sounded to my own ears…maybe they were all resting too deeply…either way I silently thanked Corellon for the luck of it all.

The first thing I noticed besides the pain and dizziness when I stood, was that my clothing no longer fit properly.  Though I knew the trousers and tunic to be my own, from the ship, the pants now hung loosely around my hips, where once they had fit perfectly.  The tunic was yards of material too big as well.  You could have fit two of my current form into the tunic.  It was strange to realize how different my body had become because of the unmaking the gods had put on me…because I didn't _feel _different.  Even though I can remember being a different size, I do not feel odd that I am no longer am.  Stranger still was that my height had not changed.  I was still just over six feet in height…very rare for any elf…especially seeing as I cannot remember great height being common on either side of my family.  Although , come to think of it, perhaps my Grandfather Cefwyn was a bit on the larger size…

When I had finished marveling over the changes in myself, I continued on, keeping to the shadows.  I wasn't quite ready to face anyone yet.  Not without knowing exactly what had happened…what other horrors I might have done. 

It did not take me long to find out the answer.

I could see the light from the bonfires as soon as I left the house.  They burned brightly in the center of the village, and I immediately began to walk in that direction, my hand never far from the wall of a building, as I wasn't exactly stable on my feet.  My breath came in ragged gasps, and I held back tears of frustration, thinking about how unfair it was that I couldn't even walk a few hundred feet to the village center without trouble.  

I slowed when I heard voices, not quite to the center yet.  Peering around a corner I saw two familiar forms standing in the shadows.  Bran and Kelly were whispering to one another in the dark.  I stood there for a moment, unable to hear what was being said as the wind came up…but while I could not hear their nature of their whispering, their actions were quite clear to my eyes…especially when Bran leaned down and placed his mouth on Kelly's, his hand on her back.  At first I felt a momentary surge of anger at Bran, for it was quite clear that my "friend" was trying to seduce my half-elven daughter…and succeeding.  But it faded quickly as acceptance set it.  What was I supposed to do about it anyway?  She was old enough…at least I think she is…to make her choice about such matters…as was Bran.  Being that I had so little to do with her any anger on my part would be disregarded anyhow.  And further, even if I was to throw a fit about what was happening, in my current condition I would be no match for Bran in a fight.  

So I left it alone.  Let Bran and Kelly do whatever they wished.  It was not my problem.  If it had been Sera things might have been different, for she is truly my responsibility.  And I knew that whatever might happen in the future, I would work my hardest to find a way to overcome my frailty.  I was no longer a child to merely accept it as my lot in life.  I have a family to protect and barely being able to walk was not going to be condusive to doing so.

I went around the far side of the building to avoid any confrontation with them.  When I finally reached the site of the fires, I felt like lying back down again, but refused to do so.  I had to see.  

I saw the hole where the well was and caught a flash in my mind of a cavern and robed men.  I assumed I had been down there before, but I could not recall everything that had happened.  

There were many Ruathen gathered around the fires, their voices as one as they spoke the rites of funeral.  A huge pile of rocks lay at the ready, and two shallow pits had been dug.  In one lay the bodies of some twenty or so Ruathen, side by side, dressed in the armor and best clothing, weapons laid across their chest, their skin the pale white of the dead.  Many were old, but some were young as well.  All bore the wounds of battle.  Yet it was the one body that had been placed in a pit alone that caught my attention and held it.  The firelight turned his white hair orange, and the shadows of the night made the lines in his face seem deeper.  The face was so very different from the one that he had worn the day he stepped in on my side against the Ruathen boys who'd fought me…and yet despite the ravages of age, it was still eerily the same.

He was dressed in his finest, with wealth in weapons, gold, and armor placed in the pit with him.  A dog had been slain and lay beside him in the pit, and I knew that all of this was done so that he would not enter the halls of Tempus looking the part of a pauper.  Though his axe lay across his chest, I could see the line where his tunic sunk into a terrible wound.  And I remembered Airk's thoughts, how he had wanted Eirik to stop fighting…recalled a mighty swing of my sword, and the resistance at it cleaved flesh only to be stopped by bone.  And it was a good thing that my stomach was empty of anything save air, else I fear I would have shamed myself, and Eirik by being sick then and there.

I had killed him, I realized in that instant.  I killed my first friend…Eirik Ivarsson who had always stood by me, no matter the cost to himself…who had helped me survive Ruathym…who had allowed me to be elven when I needed to be, and pushed me to be human when it was not safe to be anything but.  Like a berserker that loses his focus, I had had lost control and killed someone I loved.  And if I had had the breath to do so I would have roared my grief for all to hear.

But I did not.  I did not want to bring attention to myself, so I stood silently in the shadows; still and silent.  I watched as the ritual went on, as the familiar words were spoken by the shamans, commending the souls of the heroes to the halls of Tempus, where they might be made strong to fight at Tempus' side in the afterlife.  

I stood there, leaning against the wall of a house, forcing myself to stay and see as the stones were piled on the bodies, creating a cairn that would be remembered for as long as it stood.  I knew that because they built it in the center of town that when the funeral was through, Rylonar would be abandoned by the living…a village for the dead.  A shaman might be left to tend the grave sites…perhaps even the site of the pool, but no more would villagers live in the houses…no more would they fish the shores.  Rylonar would fade.

 When it was over and the cairn was built, the Ruathen began to disperse. I moved through the shadows, away from them.  I did not want to be seen, to speak with anyone...to see the condemnation once more. 

I did not go back to Brander and Ingrid's house either, but continued past it, to the cliffs, letting my feet take me where they would, though my side burned, my back felt sticky, and my breath felt like fire in my chest.  The wind picked up; strong enough to push me back, strong enough that I had to lean forward to keep my forward motion.  I did not stop until my feet were at the very edge of the cliff, below which I had washed up on, some 60 years ago. I looked down, watching the waves crash against the rocks below.  The tide was high, covering the narrow rocky beach.  A fall from this height would kill me, even with the water below.  

I hardly knew what to feel, then.  Too many emotions swirled and conflicted with one another.  Anger was foremost…anger at myself and the gods, mostly.  Grief was right behind it.  My knees gave out, and I crashed to the ground almost grateful for the respite. 

The truth was, that at that moment, I didn't care about the reasons I had chosen to come back, I just wanted to die.  Death, I thought, was the perfect answer to what I was feeling.  In death I would not be in such agony…both physical and emotional.  I would no longer care about all the people I had lost…all those whom I would continue to lose.  The shame over hurting my friends and my wife would vanish. It would all vanish in the instant I hit the rocks. The gods had let me chose _who_ I wanted to be, but they had never asked me _if_ I wanted be.  In that moment, there on the cliffs it seemed to me it was a question they should have asked. 

However, before I could contemplate suicide further I heard the sound of someone approaching…or rather I felt the presence, for she never made a noise until she spoke.

"You know," she began casually, but I could detect a note of concern that she wasn't quite able to hide.  "If Ranon and Celedor knew that you were up and out here of all places, you'd find yourself ties to the bed, after they'd thrown fits to make one Sera's tantrums look like a summer breeze."

"I don't care," I managed…my voice sounded different to my ears.

"No, I don't imagine that you do," Lita sighed as she walked to within a few feet of me.  "You've always been stubborn like that once you get an idea in your head." I glanced at her once, then looked back out at the ocean.  She seemed unnaturally pale, and there were fading wounds visible on most of her exposed skin.  She looked tired…and she look old.  And when I looked at her, and recalled how Eirik looked…so old even though they were less than half my age, I thought of Brander and Ingrid.   I had watched them go from hale and blond, to withered and gray.  I was watching it happen with Lita, had seen it with Eirik…someday I would have to watch Bran and Alliana, and even Kelly suffer the same fate.  And all while I stayed young, never changing.  

This, I thought, was why Everall would never work despite its lofty ideals…this was why the races would never truly get along for any time one of the elder races dared a friendship while a human of halfling, or anyone but themselves…they were burned in the end at the loss.

I couldn't help it…I started to cry.  It was not the same hysterical sort of grief that I had felt when I lost Sera…when I thought that my parents had abandoned me.  It was silent and hopeless, for no amount of anger or battle or apologies could ever change the fact that I could not fight death…nor did I want to face in others, even though I wanted it for myself.  It made me selfish in that I might be afflicting upon those I love the same sort of thing I was feeling, however.

I vow that Lita must have some physic talent for she seemed to follow the path of my thoughts.

"I'm sorry about Eirik.  And I know what you're thinking…"

"What am I thinking, Lita?" I asked softly.  

"That you can't handle this…that you're going to have to watch as people around you grow old and die.  But taking yourself out of the equation won't help anything."  As I said, I don't know how it was she knew what I thought…until I asked her later, when she told me I had been mumbling to myself the whole time since she had walked up.

"Then what will help?" I wanted to know.  Always I wanted to know the answers to questions…even the questions I never asked to anyone but myself.  She was quiet for a moment, thinking I suppose, and I was surprised that, for once she did not have a response ready for me.  When she did reply, it was not with her usual sarcasm, or flippancy.  She was dead serious.

"I can't say for certain what, if anything will help.  The only one who can figure that out is you.  But I can say this…it is our fate to burn brightly and make great changes.   It is yours to remember us, even when the time comes that no else does."

"But what is the point of living when you have to watch the people you care about die?" I demanded.

"What's the point of living if you don't _live_?" she countered.

"What kind of life can I have when I can't even walk a few hundred yards without having to sit down to catch my breath?" Was my bitter reply.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lita shake her head.

"Has it occurred to you that you were wounded nearly to the point of death and that it might actually take you _time _to recover?" The sarcasm was back…almost comforting in its familiarity.

"You don't understand…it was like this when I was child…and with the magic gone, I'm back to the way I was supposed to be before I came to Ruathym," I protested.

"And do you know for certain that sick is the way you were supposed to be?"

"But every one always said…"

"And when have you _ever_ done what other people said?" Lita interrupted, dryly.  I thought about it for a moment, considered the possibilities.  It was possible that the problem was merely my wound.  And I do have a tendency to jump to a conclusion before all the facts have been collected…

"How can I be certain?"  She shrugged.

"You can't…but is life so cheap to you that you'd waste yours on a chance?"  For a minute I didn't say anything, but I felt calmer, and her words have imparted a degree of hope into what had been hopeless only moments earlier.

"Why is it that when I have a thing set in my mind you manage to say something that makes me change the way I think?" I wanted to know.  Lita shrugged.

"I'm a woman of few words…lots of opinions, but few words.  You'd do well to listen better to those few, though."   I think I might have smiled, even as the tears I had cried were dried by the wind coming off the waves.  I looked over to her, meeting her eyes for the first time.  

"Airk loved you," I confessed.  She nodded.

"I know," was all she ever said.  We sat there a while longer, not saying anything, but just when the silence seemed to stretch on too long, Lita got up.

" By Mask, it's cold out here!" she exclaimed, running her arms.  "If this is summer, I'd hate to see winter."

"You live in Silverymoon," I pointed out.  "It's further north."

"And I'd never be there either, if it weren't for Alliana. Oh but for Calimport…someplace warm and sunny…" she sighed.

"Well, get up," she ordered.  "Maybe if luck is with us we can sneak you back into the house before anyone realizes you're gone.  Bran and Kelly ought to be sexually intertwined for a while longer…"

"I didn't want to know that," I interrupted.

"Don't be a prude…you're an elf…masters of nudity," she continued as though I hadn't said anything.  I had to laugh at her statement, though…despite the daggers it sent through my chest.  It was true, for while humans are more open about their emotions, they are careful to hide their flesh from casual view.  With elves, it is our emotions that are hidden, and our bodies we that we do not care if other see.

       So I got up, although I was quite annoyed that I needed her arm to manage it.  

       "Gods you're thin," she muttered as she helped me.  "I should only be so lucky."  It was true, I realized, a bit startled as I glanced down at my wrists and arms.  I _was _thinner…a great deal of my bulk was gone.  I wondered if I even had the strength any longer to lift my weapons.

       We made it back to the house, although getter there seemed to take a great deal of time.  I'm not certain how I managed to get back into the bed without waking anyone, but I did, and weary and wounded as I was, reverie was quick in coming, and I did awake again until the next morning.

       When I "woke" the next morning I almost felt crowded by the amount of attention I suddenly got.  Neither Sera nor Rosealliele would leave my side for any prompting.  Both of them were alternately crying, and smiling.  Sera kept going on and on about how she had gotten shot in the tail during the big fight, but adding that she was better now. When I asked her how she had gotten here she immediately started apologizing and I got to hear how she had hidden away in my coat pocket and bribed Sanhandrian into silence with a pile of walnuts.  I would be having a little "chat" with my familiar later.

Rose didn't say much, but she made certain she was never more than a foot away from me, even when Celedor and Ranon demanded to examine me.  They practically clucked with concern when they looked at my back, saying that the wound must have reopened sometime in the night.  They bandaged it up, apologizing for not be able to use any more magical healing.  I was glad that a blanket was covering my lower body to they would not be able to see that dried grass still clinging to my feet and figure out the reason why the wound had reopened so "mysteriously."

  Everyone just had to speak with me, and all of them kept asking question after question in these solicitous, quiet tones, as though they thought to speak louder might upset me.  They wanted to know what happened, if I remembered anything, asking questions about things that had happened just before we had come to Ruathym.  I guess they were trying to make certain I was still "me."  Finally I got fed it up with it all…especially being treated like an invalid…even though, at the moment, I practically was one.  I told them in no uncertain tones that I didn't remember anything about the time I was "Airk"…even though I did….just a little.  I added that "wounded" did not mean "dead" or "fragile," so they if they wanted to talk to me they should do it in a tone I didn't have to strain to hear.  I was about to add a "…and furthermore…" when they startled me by laughing….all of them.  There was a sense of relief in that laughter, however, and I got the feeling they were relieved by the return of my temper.  

It was several days before I was "allowed" to get up.  My wound was healing well…or so I was told, for it certainly didn't feel any better to me. I had, by that point, heard the whole story about what had happened…from the tale of the Host Tower wizards, to Lita's great battle plan, from the demon Marilith to my wife's deadly spell.  Needless to say I was amazed that their plan had gone so well, but then again they did have their minds set to it…and when that happens worst plans than that one…like the one I came with up with to find Handrax for example, can work.

Tobias had searched through all of the wizards' things and finally located the spellbook from whence the beam that had hit me came from.  The spell, as everyone had suspected, was unique to the Host Tower mages…something they'd developed and had not let out into the mainstream wizarding societies.  It had some stupid name…Dvaron's Black Death or something like that.  It had been developed with the sole purpose to kill, and kill painfully.  The beam would enter the flesh of a living creature as a hole only the size of a copper piece.  As soon as it interacted with skin however, the beam would begin to diverge, lacerating and destroying all that it came in contact with until it finally erupted from an exit point with explosive force, the beam now magnified in size a hundred-fold.  

Now ideally, or so the wizard had noted in his book, the spell was meant to be cast towards the midline of the body to be assured that both the heart and the spine of the target would be destroyed, hence preventing any healing measures, for the beam killed in an instant.  Seeing as the beam had been at Rose, and not me, it was only sheer luck that the beam entered so far to my right side that only my lung, some ribs and a great deal of flesh was destroyed instead, or so Celedor told me. And while I suppose that I am lucky in that I did not die, I certainly don't feel so lucky, seeing as the regeneration spell that Celedor had cast on me in an attempt to make my ribs and lung grow back is making my wound hurt so much worse than before that its all I can do to talk at times.   

Though I was allowed to get up, when the pain wasn't too bad, by my "prison guards"…ie Ranon and Celedor, the extent of it was letting me walk no further than the cairn, at a slow pace with some one at my side at all times.  I got angry when I starting wheezing painfully, even after so short a trip, snapping at Tobias who was the closet target for my ire.  Celedor, who'd not been more than a few feet behind us spoke up at my temper, reminding me in his deceptively mild tone that it would be a long while before my damaged lung fully regenerated and that patience and not anger was the only thing that was going to help.  I told him, rather rudely, what I thought of patience and added that any time he would like to trade places with me, he was welcome to do so.  The priest did not offer any more advice, I wound up feeling guilty of having shouted.  After all he had saved my life, and was only trying to help.  Tobias, on the other hand, just seemed to shrug my mood off like water and continued jabbering on about his "grand" part in the battle as though he'd never been interrupted.  Damned bards.          

I have been told I'm hero…by the Ruathen, no less.  Ian, Eirik's eldest son told me this.  Save for having blond hair instead of black, the boy…man, rather, looks so very much like his father it is almost painful to see him, for it is like having Eirik's eyes looking back at me.    It was certainly not something I had expected to hear…nor did I feel I deserved to be called such.  It was only the magic of the Fury of Battle that had allowed me to destroy the pool, anyhow.  But Ian insisted it was so, and that if there was anything he could do for me that I was to name it.  At first I was going to refuse anything, but then I remembered something I did want that Ian could provide: a way into the Green Room.

When I asked if it could be done, Ian immediately agreed, stating that as First Axe he would see it done as soon as I was hale enough to travel to Ruathym city to go to the Green Room.  He added that messages had already been sent to Ruathym city informing the other First Axes of the island what had happened in Rylonnar.  Ian was certain that there would be no problem, so at least I will be able to fulfill my word to Elaith…provided, of course, the book is actually there.

With the magic gone, and no chance of spells going awry, Liralyn and Kalanas departed back to Everall, taking Sera with them.  She protested mightily about going, adding that all the trouble was over, and she had helped, so why couldn't she stay?  I reminded her that she had disobeyed me after promising to stay with Rina and her parents, and put herself in danger by coming and that she was not to so much as set foot off school grounds until I returned, as punishment.  And though I sent her home as a form of discipline over her stowing away, I was able to relax fractionally better once she was gone, and out of harm's way.

We're traveling to Ruathym city on the morning.  I'm fed up with "resting," and waiting to heal nonsense.  Once I finish searching the Green Room, I damn well mean to go home and rest when I can at least have five minutes alone with my wife, and take a walk without having someone hovering over me!  It's been well over two ten-days since the battle and I am tired of Ruathym.  My home here is long gone, along with the people who'd made this place bearable, and our departure is long overdue.  Besides, I'm worried about Rosealliele.  She seems so tired, and I fear what affect all this stress is having on her.  After all, she has never been in a situation anything like this before, having grown up safe and protected in Evermeet.  She has had to kill people for the first time in her life, and I can say that I am well aware of how traumatic that can be.  I think that she'll be better if I can just get her back to the school, among her things and her books, where she can relax again.  And there are certainly more than enough clerics there to tend my wounds, although I am getting mightily tired of being "tended" to.  

Yes.  I've decided it.  Tomorrow, Ruathym City.  And once done there, we go back to the mainland, then home, damn it all!    

We arrived at Ruathym City, after several days of agonizing travel, without incident…not that I thought that there would be a problem considering Ian and a number of his warriors had come with us.  They had wanted me to go with them to speak with the First Axe of Ruathym, no longer Aumark Lithyl, who was long dead, but a new Ruathen, about what had happened.  Though they had asked, I knew it was more of a command, for technically, as I was still Airk Windereiver to them, I was still under Ian's jurisdiction as First axe of the southern villages.  

We made our way to the center of Ruathym city.  The town had not changed much in the time I have been gone except that more wooden houses ring out from the center meeting area, and more ships fill the harbor. 

Whispers and outright stares exploded as we passed.  I imagine that the Ruathen had never even imagined so many alfar existed, let alone that they would see us.  I don't know how many of them, if any, recognized me for I taken great pains when I had lived to try not to stand out.

When we entered the meeting area, hunting horns were sounded, calling the people of Ruathym city to the Thing…the Ruathen version of a court, so to speak.  I had never been to one before, for my father Brander had never a reason to go to one either.  They are usually only held that the First Axe and those gathered would decide the fates of criminals, end arguments, and so forth.  Very democratic, as the old elven councils were rumored to have been.  The problem with that, however, and the reason we elves had eventually found a King by way of the Moonblade trials, was that too many voices could obscure justice if they could not agree on a decision.

The Ruathen began to gather, seating themselves according to clan and district.  We took our place with Ian, among other from the southern villages and clans, and waited.

A Ruathen man walked into the clearing.  Of middling age, he stood very tall, an axe heavy across his back.  This, then, would be the new First Axe of Ruathym.  He announced himself as Hrolf Ulfsson, a cousin to the great Aumark Lithyl.  Now seeing as First Axe of Ruathym is not hereditary but only a title that can be taken by skill, I had to assume that Hrolf was at least as strong a man as his cousin had been.

Ian rose and told the tale of what had happened in the south.  Cries and shouts of anger echoed through the crowd at the wizard's perfidy.  When they came to our part in the tale, it was no surprise that all eyes immediately became riveted on the "alfar," Bran, Kelly, Lita, and Ranon. The men of the party were called one by one to detail their part in the battle that occurred.  Women are not allowed to speak in the Things, but must have a man to represent them….not very fair in my opinion, but it is the way things are done in Ruathym.

I listened as Bran, Tobias, Celedor, and Ranon explained the things they saw and did.  And when it came to my turn I managed to rise without too much difficulty.  Ian introduced me as Airk Windreiver, adopted son of Brander and Ingrid Windreiver of Rylonar.  I did not bother to correct him, for the name no longer holds any dread or even concern for me.  It is only a memory.

  I kept my words short and to the point.  I told them that because I, too, was under the magic I remembered very little of what had happened to me.  I did reveal that when I had driven the Fury of Battle into the water that I heard words being spoken to me, and that I felt that Tempus had guided my hands.  It was the truth and yet not quite the truth.  I still wasn't yet ready to speak of the vision of the gods that I had had, but felt that the Ruathen might rest easier believing that their god's hand had guided my own in defeating the magic.

When all was said and done, Hrolf extended us and invitation to stay on Ruathym as long as we so chose for our bravery was that of any Ruathen in what we had done.  I thanked him, but stated that we had to return to our homes.  When he asked if there was aught that he could do for us, Ian replied that I sought entrance to the Green Room.  It was granted without a second's hesitation.  Officially, after the testimony of the shamans of Tempus who'd been to Rylonar, the danger in the southern villages was declared met with and defeated.  Then the Thing was over and the Ruathen began to disperse at the command of the First Axe, although there were many glances over the shoulders as they tried to get one last look at us.  

We were taken straight to the Green Room as soon as we left the Thing, at my insistence.  It proved to be a long wooden building not far from the center of town.  It amazed me for it was so plain, and I must have walked by it a thousand times when I was younger and never knew that it was the Green Room I had searched for.  

Inside was a jumble of books, scrolls and parchment, stacked haphazardly on every surface to be found, in no sense of order. I groaned.  It would take all day to find anything in the mess. Not that it wasn't unexpected.  After all the Ruathen are far from scholars, and most of the books here had obviously only been taken due to a gold leaf on the edges, a gem or stone set into the bindings, and other valuables that adorned the covers.

Some one located a chair for me and Celedor ordered me to sit down.  Though I gave him a foul look at the demand, I conceded without an argument.  After the traveling and speaking at the Thing I was feeling tired…damn my wounds.  I so hate being this weak!  Without any prompting, I got to work.  The others asked me what I was looking for, but they were all told to mind their own business.  I didn't think Elaith wanted his business broadcasted to the others, anyhow.  

Bran promptly announced that while he may be educated, poring over books not knowing what to look for was not his idea of how to spend a sunny summer afternoon.  He stated that he meant to go have a look around Ruathym city.  The moment that he moved to the door Kelly added that such sounded like a good idea and she darted after him.  Too obvious, I thought to myself.  They might spend the afternoon exploring, but I do not think that Ruathym city will be the _what of that "exploration."   Lita stated that she was hungry and departed to see what could be done about getting some food.  _

That left me with Tobias, Ranon, Celedor, and Rose, all waiting around for something to do.  

"If you would just give us a hint, we could help you," Rose told me, gently.

"I don't need any help," I replied.  However, at that moment, I reached up to pull down some books from one of the shelves and felt something tear in the skin on my back.  Celedor cursed, as I stifled a gasp.  

After my back had been restitched and bandaged, Celedor informed, in no uncertain terms,

 "You are to stay seated and we will bring the books for you, and that if you don't stop being so damnably stubborn your wounds will never heal!"  
       Since they were so bound and determined I told them that I was looking for books on ancient history and spellbooks and if they found any that I wished to see them.  It kept them happy, having something to do, and it kept them out of my way as I searched all the books I could get to without getting up.

Night began to fall before we had found anything.  Lita had been back with Ruathen and trays of food at one point, but had gone again.  Just as someone made a suggestion that we should give up for the night, I found what I was looking for.  

The book still retained traces of the ornate, but most of the gems and gold had been stripped from the cover.  When I opened the cover the pages crackled with age, and particles of dust sifted out.  Faint writings were etched on the page, and though I could not read it, I was able to recognize the writing as that of ancient Netheril.  A spellbook holds magic, and this one was no difference for the strength of its power caused my hands to tingle.  It had to be the book Elaith was looking for…nothing else in the Green Room had even come close.  

I leafed through it, looking for some hint of what it might contain, but without knowledge of the language, the spells were no good to me.  I was careful to conceal the fact that I had found the book I was looking for.  At least I would be able to somewhat repay Elaith for all that he done for me!  I set the book aside, in a small stack of elven and human histories that they had uncovered for me, and searched through a few more books.  I took two more books, one very old and made of thin pieces of granite that were bound like pages, and another, small with the leather cover engraved with a symbol that looked like a horn of plenty.  

"I found what I wanted," I informed the others casually, holding up the two books.  I was given odd looks as they saw the two books.

"Dwarven history and halfling religion?" Tobias asked incredulously.  

"Are you saying I can't read about things other than elven history?" I growled.  Tobias shook his head quickly.

"No, of course not…it's just...well…oh never mind."  No one else had any further comments as I set the two books down on top of the small pile I was taking with me.  After all, I had been given leave by Hrolf Ulfsson to take whatever I wished from the Green Room.  

We were lent rooms to stay in that night by the townsfolk.  When morning came, arrangements were made with Ian to have the Radiant Dolphin and its owner, Kerrick brought back to Waterdeep…safely.  And once farewells and thanks yous had been exchanged we teleported back to Waterdeep.

We did not stay in Waterdeep long.  Celedor departed for his temple shortly after we arrived, after stating that now that he had been on an adventure he was quite content to stay at the church and never leave Waterdeep again, thank you very much.  I couldn't say that I blamed him.  After all what had just gone on Ruathym was far more perilous than your usual "lets go hunt some orcs" kind of adventure.  Ranon thanked us for the fun, and told us to send him word if we decided on another adventure, adding that he got bored often.   Tobias took his leave as well, stating that he had places to go, things to accomplish, and a grand song of the adventure to compose.  He added that he would see us again soon…he was certain of it.

That left Kelly, Bran, and Lita.  Kelly told us that she had to be getting back to her job at the guard and such, but that it had certainly been interesting.  Unsurprisingly Bran decided that he would like to spend the rest of the summer in Waterdeep, for he had never seen such a grand city before.  I wonder how long it will be before he decided to admit that he is sleeping with my half-elven daughter, and realizes that I already know about it?

Lita wanted to go back to her house in Silverymoon, and added that either Rose or I would be teleporting her there as soon as possible.  Seeing as she had bee so very helpful, it was a demand that we couldn't refuse.  Rose volunteered to do the teleporting seeing as she didn't want me to strain myself, but she added that we would have to wait for tomorrow that she could rememorize the spell.

As evening fell, I informed Rose that I had a small errand to run.  However when I suggested that she could wait in our room until I returned, she flatly refused.

"There is no way I'm letting you leave my sight again," she informed me.

"I assure you, I'll be fine," I tried to soothe her with a claming tone.  She shook her head.

"No.  I'm going, or you're not."  I considered arguing but ultimately decided that it was worth the effort.  I would eventually tell her about the book I retrieved for Elaith anyhow.

So we headed down to Elaith's tavern.  I had wanted to walk there even though, considering the distance, it probably would not have been a good idea.  Before I could get more than a few feet however, Rose had hailed down a carriage and paid the driver the necessary coins for a ride to the Hidden Blade.

"We could have walked," I commented to her as we sat down.

"No, we couldn't have," she retorted.  Then, her expression softening, she continued.

"Keledrial, I know that you're anxious to get back to the way things were, but if you do not wait to heal before pushing yourself, you will never heal at all."

"I know," I confessed, slightly more relaxed now that I was finally alone with her. "It's only that I can't stand feeling this way.  It reminds me too much of when I was a child."

"It only seems that way. Once you're better I'm certain things will be fine again."

"I hope so," I sighed.

Riding in a carriage is rather unpleasant, despite popular belief.  The wheels going over cobblestones makes for an incredibly bumpy trip, and being enclosed makes me feel claustrophobic.

I was quite glad when we finally reached the tavern and could get out of the damnable thing.  

Elaith was not at the tavern when we got there, but his barkeep had a message sent to summon him when we arrived.  While waiting, Rose and I had a seat at a table.  The tavern was nearly empty at so early an hour in the day…no customers at all.  I would have ordered some wine for the both of us, but Rose said she only wished water to drink.  So instead I got her some water, and ordered some ale for myself.  After taking our orders, the bartender withdrew far enough away that rose and I had plenty of privacy.

During the hours we waited for Elaith to arrive I quietly explained to Rosealliele about the book I had found for Elaith in the Green Room, and about other things that I had not yet been able to tell her…like my vision of Tempus and Corellon.

She did not say much, only listened intently to my few memories of what had happened while I was under the effects of the pool of magic and the wizards.  When I tried to apologize for hurting her, she refused to accept it, saying that it wasn't me who attacked her, and that the wound thing was a small price to pay if it meant having me back.  She is such a wonderful woman. 

When Elaith finally arrived, his cloak was wet and stained.  His hair was dripping as well, and I glanced out the window to realize that a storm had begun while Rose and I had been talking, and we hadn't even noticed.  Elaith turned the sign over in the door so that it read "closed."  After removing his wet cloak, he sat down at the table, across from us.

"My apologies for being so late.  I had business that could not be delayed, though," Elaith stated.  Then he seemed to focus on us a bit more intently.

" You seem different," he commented.  I nodded.

"It is a very long story.  I won't bother you with it however," I said.  

" It would be no bother.  I find I am somewhat interested as to the nature of your trip to Ruathym, and what outcome of said voyage that could have left you so…changed," he replied.  A story was a small price to pay, so I told him an abbreviated version of the tale of what had transpired on Ruathym.  He said nothing during the telling, only listened as intently as any bard would hope to have their audience listen.  When I was through, he finally spoke.

"That certainly was an interesting trip.  And I assume by your presence here that you have some report on the task I asked of you?"  I nodded, and slid the book across the table to him.  For a moment his eyes seemed to light up with anticipation, but it was gone so quickly I wondered if I hadn't imagined it.  He flipped through the pages.

"This is, indeed, the book I was seeking," Elaith declared.  "But whether the spell I was told of is in it is another question."  He looked up from the book and at me.

"You have my gratitude, Keledrial.  Consider any debt between us to be resolved."

"I hardly consider a book to be payment for the debt I owed you," I confessed.  "Still, if ever you should need my help again, consider asking me…as a friend."  He gave me the oddest look in that moment…indecipherable, I wasn't certain what he was thinking.  I knew, however, that despite everything I had been told about Elaith, he had never done me any harm and helped me greatly…and for that I considered him a friend. 

"You choose odd friends, Lord Nightstar," he finally replied.  I shrugged.

"So I do.  But no one can say that my friends are not interesting."  Elaith gave a wry smile.  

"Very well then."  He rose.  "Though I have enjoyed the company…and the profits," he held up the book, "of this visit, I am afraid that my previous business needs further…attending to.  Sweet water and light laughter until we meet again," he gave the traditional elven leave-taking.  He bowed once to Rose, and left, taking only enough time to draw his wet cloak back on.

"He is right, you know.  You do choose strange friends," Rosealliele told me as we, too, rose to leave.

  "Actually, I don't choose them…they seem to choose me for reasons I have yet to fathom," I told her.

We went back to the inn after that, to rest.  Though I wished to do more than just lay beside her, anything more was out of the question.  That had been another thing that Celedor had been very explicit in explaining: no sex until my back was healed. Rose seemed content enough to merely snuggle beside me, but for me, it was torture knowing how long it had been since I had made love to her, and how long it would be before I could.  This damned wound had better heal quickly, that is all I have to say!

We dropped Lita off in Silverymoon with no trouble.  Alliana arrived within an hour of our arrival, and promptly began fussing over her mother, commenting on how pale Lita seemed.  Lita groused the whole time, repeating loudly that she was too old for such nonsense, but I thought I detected a gleam of amusement and pleasure in her eyes.  Sometimes I think that Lita is far less irritated over attention than she lets on.

We stayed in Silverymoon for the rest of the afternoon, having lunch with Lita and Alliana, but as evening was drawing closer, both Rose and I decided that it was time to go home.

We teleported into Hap just as the sun was beginning to set.  Waiting for us was none other than Mallorn. 

""I just happened to be in town and thought you might like an escort," my quiet cousin told us as he walked up.

"I seriously doubt that any thing or any place you are or do falls under the "just happened" category," I replied.  He shrugged.  

"Nevertheless.   Come.  I believe that Sera is waiting for you."  I didn't doubt that she was.  

Back at Everall, things were pretty much the same, except that with it being summer, most of the students were gone, and the ones that had stayed were busy going on field excursions, and taking fun classes, and the like.  As soon as we arrived, Sharanne, the cleric of Chauntea and Lyly, the priestess of Yondalla were waiting for me, having been informed, no doubt of my injury by Liralyn.  After enduring their check up, I was told…yet again, that any sort of major physical activity would be unacceptable…for quite some time.  We shall see about that.

Sera was not waiting, as Mallorn had thought, but was found to be playing some game involving a ball, outside with Sunstar children.  She promptly bolted over when she saw Rose and I, but rather than her usual mannerism of hurling herself at me, she hugged me very gently, as though she was afraid she might break me.

"You look better, Daddy," she commented.  I nodded.  I didn't feel much better, but she didn't need to know that.  

"And I'm really sorry I didn't listen to you," she added.  I sighed.

"I know you were only trying to help, Sera, but I want you to promise me you will never do any thing like that again.  You could have been killed."

"You almost were killed," she pointed out.

"Sera…promise," I repeated.  She heaved an overly dramatic sigh.

"I promise."

"Good," I replied as she began to open her mouth.  I beat her to it, knowing what she was about to say.  

"However, you are still confined to the grounds."

"Why?!" she demanded.  I began to reply, but she spoke faster.

"Because you said so," she muttered in a pouting tone.   "But when can I not be confined?"

"When I've decided that you've learned your lesson."

"Oh fine!"  She huffed. She greeted Rose with a hug and kiss, then turned to go play with the Sunstars again, only to realize that most of them had crept up on us, expressions of their faces of curiosity.

"Later," I promised them.  "You can hear all about it later."  They smiled as one, and ran back to their game.  I shuddered, looking at all of them, trying to imagine having to deal with so many children.  I don't know how Liralyn does it.  I'm thankful that I only really have Sera to deal with, but then again one of her sometimes seems like three of any other child. Still, now that she's in school I have more time to my self, and sometimes I find it's quite nice.

After resting for the whole bloody afternoon…Rose's insistence, we went down to eat.  At dinner all of the Sunstar children were at the table, as well as 7 of the teachers who were still at the school for the summer.  They all had to hear what had happened, but fortunately Liralyn, being the bard that she is was only too happy to recount the whole thing for me.  I was given curious looks the whole time as they all seemed to be appraising my new appearance…which in truth, is only a little different from my old one, now that I have had occasion to see myself in a mirror.  I'm thinner.  That's all.

That night, when we were finally alone, Rose finally broke down.  She started crying and couldn't seem to stop, no matter what I said or did.  Finally, after several times repeating the question, "What's wrong?" she began to explain in sobbing tones.  

She told me all that had happened, saying how scared she had been, how horrified she was over killing the wizards, and yet how glad she had been when they were dead.  She told me that she had been trying to be strong for me, but just couldn't do it anymore.  I felt guilty, thinking that I had been so caught up in my own misery that I hadn't even noticed how bad my wife was feeling.  And then, just when I was thinking this would be an easy matter of telling her that everything would be all right, and that she was justified in killing, and that I knew how hard it had to have been, she dropped her little "secret."  She explained that she had decided to use the Wail of the Banshee spell when she realized why she had been so sick lately.  And her words hit me in the gut with the force of a fist.

"Keledrial, I think I'm going to have a baby."  I know that I was very still for along few moments.  I know I should have been immediately ecstatic and happy.  I knew that that was what she needed me to be, to reassure her.  But the moment she said that, all I could think was that I would never be able to escape now.  

When I say "escape," I mean in reference to a plan that had been forming in my mind.  It was one that I had been nursing for some time…since at least when I started teaching at Everall.  I had been hoping that once Sera was settled here, and Zelairwyn was capable of looking out for himself, that I would be able to resume my traveling.  Though I had agreed to this, and the life was appealing, I knew that it would not be able to satisfy me for too long.  I still wanted to see the world…much more than the small portion I knew of.  I still wanted adventure…maybe not quite the life-threatening variety I was used to…but just traveling and seeing new things was an adventure of sorts.  I had thought that with Sera getting a bit older now, that I would be able to at least take the summers off to do this.  

Even after marrying Rose there was no doubt that this was what I wanted. I figured even with my injury, after it was healed I would work on getting back to my original strength. I'd even hoped that Rose would want to come with me.  

But with those simple words…so unexpected, I saw my dream of eventual freedom slipping away.  I know I should have expected something like this…after all I know I can have children, and the sheer amount of times Rose and I had made love should have been a hint.  And even though I've not been around that many pregnant women, I should have realized that the real reason behind her being sick so often was more than just stress and worry.  But I hadn't noticed a damned thing.  And now, with a baby, there would be no hope of my traveling for at least another three or four decades.  Rose would not be willing to leave our baby behind, and there was no way I was going to take an infant traveling with me. 

 Okay, so granted I had taken Sera with me, but she was a dragon, for Corellon's sake!  And further, she was far easier to care for than a real baby, seeing as she was able to talk and walk and eat solid food after only a few months' time.  A real elven infant would not be so easy.  It would be years before Rose and I would have any sort of life again.  

Still, though such thoughts were racing through my mind, and my heart filled with dread at the prospect of Rose having a child, I smiled, covering it all up.

"That's great," I told her, for I knew it was she wanted to hear. She did not return my smile, only sighed.

"What?"  I asked, thinking perhaps I had not sounded sincere enough.

"I just…I wish we could've had more time first.  I'm too young to have a baby."

"Apparently not.  Besides, Liralyn had Zelairwyn when she was younger than both of us," I pointed out.  

" That's different. And I don't know anything about children," Rose stated.  "I thought I would have more time to learn…with Sera and the rest of the children here."  She sighed again.  I wasn't certain what to say.

"You are happy about this, right?" she asked. 

"Of course," I assured her once more.  After a bit, I managed to convince her that she should take reverie, that she needed the rest. She wanted to talk more, I'm certain, but I wasn't really in the mood for talking. 

As soon as I was certain she was resting deeply, I got up and left our room.  A quick check on Sera revealed that she was asleep as well, so I continued downstairs.  I made it to the kitchen, and after managed to catch my breath I got some water and sat down.  I could really have used a real drink, but didn't think it was that great an idea, considering I didn't think I would be able to limit myself to just one drink.

I wanted to talk with someone…to ask them why I wasn't happy about something I should have been ecstatic about.  After all, elven children are few, and each one was important.  The baby will be my heir someday, thus I will have done my duty to my house by continuing the line.  

But all I could think was that I didn't want it.  The truth was, I admitted to myself, I hadn't even really wanted Sera…at least not as a daughter.  It had never occurred to me, at the time I found her, in the egg, that I would have to raise her.  Not in the sense that one raises a child, anyway.  A dragon was more of a thing to me, then.  And the only reason I had even taken her was because I hadn't wanted the rest of my party to have the egg, and I had stupidly imagined that once she had hatched, I would learn to ride her and become one of the dragon riders of Evermeet.  Stupid youth.  That what I had been, and it hadn't taken me but hours to realize that what I had in mind and the reality of things were two very different things.  

Sera was not a thing, but a unique being, and one that had been and still was very vulnerable.  I had raised her, true, and was her father…but that certainly had never been what I had intended.  

And Rose had claimed she was too young for this…yet, I haven't even made it too my 110th birthday.  When the day that I would finally, legally, be declared an adult comes, I will already have three children…and not a single one of them was I prepared to deal with.  And there was not a damned thing I could do about it.  Oh, I suppose I could leave…let Rose deal with the problem, as Rosaleen had had to…but I knew that was not truly an option.  I couldn't leave Rosealliele, any more than she could me.  

There was no hope for I, really.  I was stuck…and this time, it was my own doing…not my parents, or the gods, or any one else.  If I had even once considered taking precautions…and it wasn't like I didn't know how to, I would not be in this situation.  

I lay my head down on the table, weary.  I was too young for all of this.  This, I finally understood was the reason that the people allowed their children so much time to grow…so that we would be ready to accept responsibilities when they finally were given to us.  Yet I had been so determined that I was already grown, that I didn't need time…and now all I could think was that I hadn't had enough time…and it was too late to do anything about it.

Time is a funny thing.  Sometimes it can seem to fly by, and you look back and wonder how it could move so quickly.  And other times it crawls along, so that each hour seems a day, and each day, never-ending.  But the strangest thing about time is when it seems to do both.  And that is what it had been like for me, these past months.

The rest of the summer was hard.  It had been hot, and dry.  Lightning storms had caused fires, and the fires had wreaked havoc throughout the dalelands, burning crops and farms. For the entire month of Flamerule on, it seemed that the air was choked with ash, and the threat of fire, and possible evacuation loomed.  Many members of the staff left the school to help battle the fires.  Needless to say, I was forbidden from even thinking about going with them to help.  

With all my friends, and fellow teachers gone, and Zelairwyn in Evereska, I had little enough to do.  The most I was allowed, exercise-wise, was walking and light stretching, to try to keep the skin of my back from healing too tightly.  

Each day seemed to drag on indefinitely, with me frustrated over the lack of progress I was making, and so bored that I could have screamed.

And yet when it came to Rose, the summer was gone all too soon.  My wife alternately wavered between being ecstatic about her pregnancy and despondent over it.  One day she would be bright and smiling, talking about baby things and names and clothing and all sorts of things that I never even considered when Sera was a baby.  She delighted in having me feel the child moving, and seemed to so proud when her belly began to show the first hints of roundness.  Then, the very next day she might be upset and crying, saying that she was frightened of giving birth, that she would be a terrible mother, than she knew nothing of children…and so on.

I never knew what to expect from Rose form one minute to the next…only that I should not count on anything.  And one would think that this would make time seem to pass slower still, but as each day passed, as the summer months became fall and the students returned, I watched her change.  Each day she that I put my hand her to her stomach, I felt the movements grow a little stronger.  Each day that I realized that her belly had gotten a little bigger brought with it the realization that I had little time left until the last of my freedom was gone…and I couldn't even enjoy it, for I was so limited in what I could do.

Needless to say that smithing class was out.  My back had still yet to heal fully, and my strength is nothing of what it was.  It would be some time, I have been told, before I would be able to do any such activities again…if ever.

So it had been ancient history for me…and I vow, I am getting so sick of it that I may never touch another history book again!  

Bran returned, via teleport looking far too satisfied for his own good.  For the first few weeks back he would barely look me in the eye, and hardly spoke a word to me…strange consider how loud he normally is.  Tully, Magnar, and Rogan noted the tension, and at first I think they assumed that something had happened between Bran and I, while on Ruathym that we weren't speaking.  They tried to keep up the conversation as best they could, but with me no longer smithing, and quite miserable, and Bran not talking, I can't imagine that they fou8nd it an easy chore.  

Finally, I got tired of it all, seeing as conversing is still the one the thing I can do with few problems, and even that was being taken away by Bran's behavior.  At lunch, one afternoon, about a month after all this had been going on, I spoke up.

"So, Bran," I began casually.  "How is Kelly?" I asked him.  Bran momentarily choked on his drink, coughing loudly for a few moments.

"She's um…fine," the normally more talkative warrior informed in monosyllables.

"Really.  And did the two of you enjoy sight-seeing in Waterdeep?' I prodded.  Bran nodded, still not meeting my eyes.  I could feel the eyes of our usual lunch crowd watch our every word.

"Yeah.  Waterdeep's really big.  Bigger than Silverymoon," he commented, trying to change the subject.  I nodded.

"It is."  Then, leaning on my arm, I looked directly at him, and somehow managed to keep my expression completely calm as I asked,

"And how did you enjoy having sex with Kelly?"   Bran reacted immediately, turning red to the roots of his blond hair, as he sputtered.

"You're her father! You shouldn't ask something like that!"  I knew the jaws of the others were hanging down somewhere around the knees, but paid them no heed.  I was somewhat amused by Bran's discomfort, which was a welcome change from the usual despair and misery.

       "Oh come, now, Bran!  You're usually so much more vocal about such things," I grinned.  "How is Kelly in bed?"   I didn't really want to know the answer, but the expression on his face was priceless. I am not certain if he could have turned any more red than he was, seeing as he already resembled the exact shade of a ripe tomato.  Finally, I could no longer contain myself as I watched him try to come up with a reply.  I started to laugh.

       "Just what is so funny?" Bran demanded, grateful to have something else to consider I suppose.

       "You are!"  I gasped.  "You've been trying so hard to keep this a secret, but I've know you were sleeping with her since Ruathym!"

       "And you're not angry?" Bran seemed confused.

       "Why should I be?  I may have sired her, but her father is the human her mother married, not me.  Besides, as she was quick to point out, she's a grown woman, and has every right to do as she wishes.  Me getting angry would be like my father being mad at me for sleeping with Rose!"

       Once Bran seemed to finally get the clue that I wasn't going to challenge him to a battle over Kelly's honor, or some such nonsense, he started to relax…to act more like himself again.  He still didn't volunteer any details about his sexual relationship with my half-elven daughter…for which I was grateful, but he was finally able to look at me, and conversed freely about the things he saw in Waterdeep and so on.  He did reveal that he had asked Kelly to consider moving closer to the dalelands, that he might be able to see her more regularly.  She had only replied that she would think about it, adding that there many things to be considered. Bran, however, seemed fairly certain that he had made such an impression with her that she would be out here by next year.  We'll see.

After that, the whole atmosphere changed and everyone seemed a bit more like themselves, for which I was devoutly glad of.  It is bad enough that I am different, without having to be treated as such.  In was nice to have at least one thing return to the way it had been before Ruathym…even if it was only just the easy camaraderie I had begun to enjoy in my time teaching alongside these men.  

Zelairwyn is due back just before winter, although I keep thinking that the Queen would do well to find him another protector, seeing as I am all but worthless at this point.  Seeing as I can't wield any weapons, and casting spells with any sort of somatic component that requires both hands is a joke, a goblin could probably walk up and laugh at me and I wouldn't be able to do a thing about it.  And even if I tried, I would have half the clerics in the damned school breathing down my neck, and vowing threats of tying me down for my own good, and so forth.

The fact of the matter is, I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. I dread each day that passes, for I never seem any better and the thought that I will be a father…again…in another year or so is more like a nightmare, than the dream it would it would be to some.  And there are days that I wish I had died in Ruathym…or at least chosen to be Airk, so at least I wouldn't have to face all of this!

As the summer was harsh, so winter almost seemed worse.  I wonder what sort of temper the gods are in to have cursed the dalelands so?  As if the fires had not caused enough damage, winter set in early, and frosts destroyed much of what harvest remained.  A great deal of people in the dalelands will go hungry this winter, even with food being imported from Cormyr, and further.

A blizzard set in hard the first of winter, and the snows have not let up since.  We have been snowed in at Everall for most of the winter, and more effort has been expended trying to keep the paths clear, and the roofs of buildings from falling in than has been on classes.  

It has been so cold that even the elves have to wear heavy jackets and scarves, less the breath seems to freeze in our lungs.  At night, I can hear the trees exploding as the water in them freezes and expands to the breaking point…falling as the weight of the snow brings even the largest of trees to the ground.      

At least the skin of my back has finally healed over enough that it no longer rips at the slightest activity.  The scar, however, is hideous.  Dark, ugly ridges of scar tissue have formed, crisscrossing the wound, each one a place where the skin had to be stitched back together after tearing.  The skin in between is thin, near white in color and incredibly tender to the touch.  And all around the edges of the wound the rest of my skin is covered with tiny stretch markings where the skin was pulled too tight by the healing spells.

Rose has assured me that it doesn't look so bad, but to my eyes my back is nauseating.  Needless to say that I am almost grateful it is winter, and there is plenty of reason for me to be fully clothed.  Still, when summer comes around again, I do not think I will be walking around shirtless any more.

The one good thing about the scar being healed is that I can move again more easily.  I have begun working my muscles once more, trying to rebuild the strength that I lost.  I had forgotten how hard it was, and my arms shake after only a few hours of stretching and lifting. But I am determined.  I will not be weak again!

Zelairwyn and his companions managed to return right before the worst of the snow set in.  I have to admit that the trip seemed to have been very good for him.  The boy's eyes seemed brighter, his entire demeanor more relaxed than it had been.  He chattered on endless about Evereska, and how he had found a lot of his friends, and how he'd been helping with the repairs to the city all summer long.  His description of Evereska, an elven city high in the mountains, wrapped in mist was one I had heard often, though I have never set eyes on the place.  Still, according to him the mythal was so badly damaged during the attack on the city that the mages there fear they will be unable to repair it.  Not surprising, all things considered.  With the loss of the majority of the high mages left in the world, and high magic itself all but vanished, I doubt there is anything that can be done about a destroyed mythal.  After all it was high magic that created them, and probably only high magic that can fix them.

As soon as he found out what had happened, he had to hear the whole tale from me about my trip to Ruathym.  I told him as much as I felt he needed to know.  He had a wistful look about him when I finished, and he told me that he wished he could have gone with us.  I shook my head at that, reminding him how he enjoyed his trip to Evereska.  He finally conceded that he had, and that perhaps it was conceivable that it was a good thing I had not let him come.  

In many ways, I have to say, Zelairwyn's return was a good thing for me.  Once the scar had healed as much as it seemed it was going to, I began training Zelairwyn once more.  This meant that everyday I put the youth through his paces in an indoor practice area…and everyday I built up my strength and stamina a little bit more towards what it had been.  The practices were probably harder on me than they were on him, but to his credit, Zelairwyn did not taunt me, or hold it over me that I changed so much.  He merely aided me in recovering my strength to the best of my ability.

Still, as I practiced with him, training him to be able to defend himself, I suddenly realized that if my child was a son that I might very well have to go through the same thing with him, that I am going through with Zelairwyn.  And while Zelairwyn is not a bad youth, he is difficult to deal with, especially with his stubborn nature.  If I could barely manage him, how then, would I manage a boy of my own, when I would expect so much more of him?

So I have been praying for a daughter instead.  Girls, at least, I know how to deal with on certain levels.  After all, have I not dealt with Sera and Alliana…my sister and my cousin, Orianna?  Perhaps I spoiled them all a bit too much, but I can hardly be faulted too much for that when everyone else seemed to do the same.  A girl would be so much easier, I have decided.  Rose could deal with all the "girly" things, and I could merely smile and tell her no, when it was time to have someone put their foot down.  

As I do not have much luck with dealing with Kedriel, I do not think I would have any with a son.  Better to have a girl.  After all there was no reason I couldn't have a girl as my heir. Only the humans are so gender specific.

Still, thinking about the baby was not that great of an idea.  I started to wonder what would happen if it was born like me…sick.  It was something I did not want to think about, but was forced to consider.  It had happened to me, and therefore, could conceivably happen to any child of mine.  From what Rosaleen had said, Kelly had suffered no such thing, but then again she was a half-elf...entirely different from what Rosealliele's and my child would be.  Further, I wondered if the all of the magic Rose had been using would affect the baby at all.  It had been documented, in several instances, how the use of strong magic during the formative months of an unborn child , can sometimes have strange effects on the baby.  Sometimes they are born with greater resistance to magic, others times, with a greater affinity for it...and still other times, the magic warped the child in some way….mentally, or even physically.  Considering the strength of the spell Rose had used, I realized that such a fear was justified, and that there was most definitely a possibility that the magic might have done something to the baby.

Once in my mind, I could not seem to get the thoughts out once more.  My reverie was no longer very peaceful as my mind kept drifting back to the same fears.  And I dared not share the communion with Rose, lest she sense my thoughts, my fears, and even my dismay about our child.  She was already nervous enough without my adding to the situation, but it has been hard, not being able to share with anyone how I am feeling.

I wish there was a way to know for certain, but there is no spell, or knowledge for such things.  The best that could be done would be some sort of divination, but I never put much stock in the outcomes of such spells.  I imagine I will just have to wait, and pray for the best…even though, knowing my luck, I should prepare for the worst.

Winter held its hold longer than usual, well past the Greengrass festival, and when spring thaws finally arrived there was not a person in Everall, or throughout the dalelands that did not finally breathe a sigh of relief.  

School was disrupted, as schedules were moved about to accommodate a late planting season.  There was only a span of a few weeks to get the seeds in if there was to be summer and fall harvests…and considering how low stores were getting, everyone agreed that the planting was a good idea.

So as part of a lesson, so to speak, the students and the teachers alike were each designated a place in the dalelands to work, to help with the planting.  Even Rose and I, and many others who could barely identify a plow, or one seed from and other, were drafted into helping the farmers.

At their request, I was sent to Banshee Keep, along with several students, including Sera and Zelairwyn, to help with the planting.  Rose came as well…that was my insistence.

Now though I have done blacksmithing…from the endless repetition of nails, to the intricacies of a sword… though I have raided and adventured, studied and navigated the intrigues of elven court, I have never farmed, or planted as ingle thing.

So while I understood the need for such things, due to the need for food, such things have always been beneath me, or at least beyond the scope of knowledge to understand, or care.  But that is thing about Everall…understanding.  And I was not the only in the school to be so unfamiliar with such things.  It would be a learning experience for, all Liralyn had declared amidst many stares of shock and expressions of disbelief.  By learning about farming and helping those who do, we would all learn about food and where it comes from and how it is grown.  Though she had said this to the students, I felt it was also directed at many of the teachers as well, for I know that I am not the only one who has never had aught to do with such "peasant" work.  And then, as though to drive the point home, she added that all teachers would be assisting in the endeavor by working with the students…that we had to be role models and prove that if we were willing to do this, that the students would have to as well.

So I was sent to Banshee keep, with my wife, Zelairwyn, Sera, Jaelen, Talath, Sorcha, and the entire sum of my elven history class.

Since it was not as far as some of the towns, we rode out to the keep.  When we arrived I had no idea what to expect…nor did most of my students.  Jaelen had tried his best to explain, saying that there would be lots of work, tilling the fields, deciding which fields to grow and which to lay fallow, sorting seeds, planting seeds, plowing, and so forth.  For the most part, it had little impact for the closest I had gotten to anything of the sort was watching the gardeners of Nightstar mansion pull weeds and prune bushes. Most of the others were equally as clueless…even Talath, who though he'd grown up in the wilderness of the forest of Tethyr, claimed he was not allowed near farming implements after he had once tripped and stabbed his uncle in the leg with a pitchfork while trying to help.  I groaned at that, realizing that in Talath, we had one of the most accident-prone students in the school with us. Sy-Tel Quessir though he is, he can barely even manage a bow without shooting someone or something other than his target, for Corellon's sake!  He cannot scribe a sentence on parchment without dumping the entire inkpot on himself.  And the trouble is, we have been hard pressed to find a single profession for him that he can manage with out causing a disaster.

Still, he was at least enthusiastic about the idea of being a farmer for a few weeks, while others were not.  Sera had begun whining almost immediately, stating that dragons do not farm, that she didn't want to get her clothing dirty, and every other excuse she could imagine.  Finally, I told her and the rest that they would not be asked to do anything I was not willing to do.  At first they seemed to think that they were off the hook with such a statement, for they all knew I had no idea about what we were getting into, and assumed that, as a noble, I would give up quickly…using my injury as an excuse.

I was determined to prove them wrong, however.

When we arrived at Banshee keep, it was just as tools, seeds, plows and the like were being pulled out of winter storage and assembled to begin work. In this, I was quick to note that it was not Rain, but the farmer priest who was in charge.  He was the one who, after inspecting everything, began passing out orders as to what to do, where to go, and so forth. He hardly gave us a glance when we arrived, expect to say that half us would be with him in the southern fields, while the other half would go with his wife in the western fields. To the guards of Banshee Keep, Kelerandri Tower, and Steelguard Tower, the dwarven tower to the south that I had never seen, the priest stated that one third of them would be on farming duty for the first week, while the other two thirds would share the guard shifts.  The second week they would rotate out again, and so on.  Basically, there was not a single person of the keep or the two towers who were excluded from the planting, except for the cooks, and the odd gnomish blacksmith whom I never saw, but heard him shout that he'd leave his shop in a coffin, and not before. Very odd.

Rose and half of the students ended up going with the Banshee.  I wasn't happy about her being separated from me, or the fact that she would be working, even though she was now quite obviously pregnant.  Still, Rain was quick to pull me aside and say that she would keep a close eye on my wife, and not allow her to work too hard.  I had to trust the woman, and figured that a woman who has given birth to 10 children and does this every year ought to know how much work Rosealliele can manage without doing harm to herself or the baby.

I was to go to the south fields with farmer priest…Andar, Zelairwyn, Sera, Talath, Sorcha, and roughly half of the Banshee children, among them Jaelen, Emiliana, a boy named Kendahl, about 8 years of age, who looked to be his father's double, but for the fact that he had his mother's hair, and seemed to have some interest in being a priest, judging by a holy symbol of Chauntea he wore proudly around his neck, and even a tiny, somber little boy, no more than 5, by the name of Doren. The four youngest of the Banshee children, the triplets I had seen and a toddler girl were left behind at the keep, but it seemed to me that everyone from the area who could walk was headed out to the fields to help.

The work began with all of us hauling gear, plows, shovels, strange clawed tools and the like down to the fields in wagons.  The fields looked to me as any other fields…grown with weeds and meadow grasses.  Andar, the farmer-priest started handing out tools.  Each of us was given a clawed w=tool that looks a little like a pitchfork with the tines smaller, and turned up on the end.  Andar explained that after the plow was dragged through the field by the horses, we would use these tools to further turn and break up the soil.    And we have to do this to all of the southern fields…which amounts to several dozen acres of land.

We got to work.  It was hard, repetitive work.  It was less than an hour before most of my students began complaining, but I was quick to remind them that they would work as I worked.  

It was a lot of strain, especially considering I am only just barely healed, but I think that it was also a good thing, for the it let me work my muscles, and lungs without doing too much damage along the way.  And I figured that considering the repetitiveness of the work, if I can manage this, I 'll be able to start working in the forge again, before long. 

Still, for all that it was boring work, I started to notice things.  After a few days, when everyone seemed to settle into a routine, and the work became more familiar, everyone seemed to relax just a bit.  And there was a sense of satisfaction at being able to look at all the work we had done, and see the difference.  It was like being at the forge in a way, starting with a raw lump of metal and turning it into something useful.  I think that is the biggest problem I have with teaching history….there's no visible result, except that I have taught a group of children about events that occurred long ago, in the hopes that they should learn from them.  Teaching like that is nothing like working at the forge, or farming, or even adventuring.

Mostly, though, I watched Andar and his children…they way they interacted with one another.  The human was very firm with them in that he tolerated no whining and expected them to work as he did…still, I watched the love that was evident in both father and children…how they talked and laughed, working alongside one another.  Whenever one of them stumbled or seemed to tire, their father always seemed to be ready to catch them, to pick them up, or give them a drink and a rest.  And watching them, I started to think about Rain and Kedra and the rest of them.  All of them had children, from what I have been able to see, but all of them had been adventurers once, for I have heard tales of their exploits throughout the dalelands.  And the odd thing is that their adventures didn't seem to stop, even after they had children.  I wondered how Rain and her friends had managed it.  And I thought that perhaps…if they had been able to do so, even despite the presence of obviously young children, maybe my future, was my child was born, wouldn't be so grim after all.

I eventually asked Andar about it, during one of the midday breaks for lunch.    He didn't laugh or ask why I was asking, although seeing as he has met Rose, I can't imagine that he wouldn't be able to figure out my reasons.

"Before I ever met her, my wife was an adventurer, caught up in some strange plots along with Guar and Kedra and a few others," he began.  "And once they'd freed themselves from that, they continued adventuring…or rather they continued fighting against those who would harm others.  When I married Rain, I knew that her need to do such things wasn't going to just go away.  Fighting against evil, helping out those who need it…it's in her nature.  After our son, Gully was born, I think she tried to stop for a while…but as much as Gully made her happy, being trapped and unable to do the things she was used to made her miserable.  After a bit, she started to learn how to balance things…her family and her job as an adventurer."

"So when she leaves, she just leaves the kids with you?" I asked.  

"Mostly, but if she's going somewhere far from here, or if she doesn't think the danger is high, sometimes we go with her…or at least nearer to where she is."

"But don't you think that' s dangerous?  Her enemies could use you against her," I commented.  He snorted.

" Just because I like farming over fighting doesn't mean I'm not capable of handling both.  And as for my children, consider the sort of people they know and the place where they live.  Even Doren," he gestured to the five year old who was had finished his lunch, and had fallen asleep in the middle of a furrow, with his head on a bag of grain seeds, "know how to defend himself. We live in dangerous times…and a farmer in the fields can be killed just as easily as a warrior in an army.  The difference is, is that so long as there are warriors, the farmers will be safer.  But without them, goblins and wore would have free run of the land…and then what would happen to the common folk?"

       I sort of understood what he was saying. Without people who are willing to risk danger, others would suffer.  And while he may not always like what his wife did, he understood the need for it.  And finally, that children did not mean the end of one's life, just a change in it. I realized that if Rain, being who she was and with so much more responsibility than I have, could manage to balance her family, her friends, all the people at her keep, and her job and all of them seemed so content, then maybe I could manage it as well.  How I will do that I haven't quite figured out, but for the first time since Rose had informed me of the baby, I felt a strange glimmer of hope.  And with that came the thought that perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all.

       And as I continued watching the Hawklight family I felt a little more at ease, as though a weight had been lifted. Maybe…just maybe I will be able to get through this all after all.   

       On a more amusing note, Talath seems to have discovered one of his few skills.  When Emiliana accidentally dropped her holy symbol into the river when she tripped, the young druid started crying that Eldath would never forgive her for being so careless.  Without any prompting, Talath threw his tunic off and dove into the river.  He stayed under for an extraordinary length of time…to the point that both Andar and myself were getting ready to dive in after him, thinking something must have gone amiss.  However, just as we were about to do so, he surfaced, grinning triumphantly.  Not only had he found the holy symbol, but he'd also located an old elven sword that gleamed faintly with magic, an odd "rock" that turned out to be an uncut emerald the size of his fist, and a locked coffer that, when opened, contained a bag of silver coins, a gold ring still attached to a skeletal hand and a letter that disintegrated as soon as it was touched.  Talath merely grinned as everyone else stared incredulously at his finds.  When asked how he had found it all, Talath shrugged his shoulders and stated that he'd always been good at finding things that were hidden or lost.  Now if he can only manage to adequately master the other necessary skills, Talath will someday be in demand as an adventurer…after all such a skill is exactly the sort of things that many adventuring parties…especially the ones out to make a living, would want.

       However, I must say his triumph lost some of its allure when he tripped a few moments later, spilling an entire pitcher of red fruit juice all over Emiliana's pale blue robes.  Back to Talath as usual, I suppose.   

       When we left the fields of Banshee keep some weeks later, I got a definite sense of satisfaction at being able to look over all the neatly planted fields and know that I had helped to make it happen.  I felt much better than I had been feeling, both physically and emotionally, although the work had been very demanding.  And though they still complained, I think that Liralyn's intentions had worked, for the students had learned what it took to create much of the food they ate without a thought, and like myself, I think that helping with the planting gave them all a sense of accomplishment.  Of course, I could be reading too much into it, as well, for some…like Sera never ceased whining.  Oh well.  I've begun to come to the conclusion that you can't win every battle, no matter how hard you try.  And some battles with Sera are just not worth fighting.     

       The planting season passed quickly, and my mood was greatly elevated afterwards.  I had proven that I could handle doing heavy work again, for though I was sore after the weeks spent working in the fields of Banshee keep, the skin of my back did not tear, and my lung no longer burned with pain at the effort of physical work.

       Liralyn stated, after getting approval from the clerics, that I would be able to resume teaching at the forge, which was a great relief.  At least I would have something to do more than reading books and papers.

       I have been able to get back to working with Zelairwyn again. He's getting better…a great deal better I might add.  If his progress keeps up, I think that in a few years time he'll be ready to start training with someone other than I, for he just may exhaust my knowledge in fighting.

       I told Rosealliele everything about how I have been feeling lately.  I had expected her to react badly to the knowledge of how apprehensive I have been over the child, but she quite surprised me when she told me that she often felt the same way.  She added that she while we both thought we were too young to be having a child, it was clear that the gods thought differently, or else this would not be happening at all.

       We spoke about all our fears…of being trapped, tied down, of being bad parents, and of not being able to have enough time with each other.  While I do not think we resolved much, I know that I felt better knowing that she knew how I felt, and that I did not have to hide it anymore.    Finally I told her that Everall was not something permanent for me…that in a few decades, when I thought Zelairwyn was capable of protecting himself, or at least that he needed to train with someone other than I, that I wanted to travel again…that while I liked teaching, and Everall, I didn't think it was something I could do forever.  She responded that she understood, for she too, had wanted to travel…not adventure, mind you, but travel, and that she had come to Everall as a starting point.  She claimed that she saw no reason that travel was impossible, baby or not.  Just because we had never traveled in our youths, doesn't mean that children cannot travel.  To make her point, she used Tobias as an example.  He had grown up in a circus, his parents performing all over Toril since Tobias was a child.  And while Tobias is a bit on the odd side, I cannot say that his mobile childhood damaged him any.

       And once we had come to that understanding…that someday we would leave Everall, that we would take our child with us, that Sera would be allowed to come with us or stay at Everall, as she chose, and that when it came down to it, there was nothing to stop us from doing as we chose except for our own fears and doubt, life seemed to become a great deal easier. 

       And with everything seeming to be returning towards normal, I am starting to think that maybe I will be all right after all.  But I am naturally wary of getting comfortable too soon.  After all, that's usually when the ground falls out from under me.


	27. Author's NoteRead this first!

Well, the time has come at last for the end of the story.  Today, the last chapters of the journal are posted.  However, before you read on, I feel that a warning is in order.  Seeing as this is the finale of the story, I thought I'd do something a bit unusual.  To that end, I have written three different endings to Keledrial's story.  Kind of a choose your own ending.  One of them is a happy ending, as those endings are my favorites…seeing as they don't happen often in real life.  One of them is a sad angsty sort of ending.  The third is a "bet you didn't see this coming" sort of ending. The endings are numbered, but I'm certain that all of you can figure out which is which.  Note that the beginnings of ending 1 and ending 3 are the same, but each one does end quite differently.  Also the dramatis personae and the timeline have both been updated, and you might not want to look at them before reading the end chapters as they give a little bit away.  

            Finally, I once more would like to thank all of you for continuing to both read and review my story as that has been the driving force in my finishing it.  I ask for one final review from each of you, letting me know what you thought of the story overall, what you liked, what you didn't like, and which ending you liked the best.  Further, as a note to those of you who have asked, yes, I have begun work on a new story, about a new character; one that that at this point is in nowise related to either the Raine or Keledrial stories.  It is being written in third person instead of first, which is a bit of a change for me.  However, as I have just started it, it will probably be quite some time before I can begin posting it.  Look for it around the start of next year, possibly.

            And as always, and one last time, thank you all for you input: Arabwel, crazefanficboi, lord kaizar, silverwolf7, raelli1, catspaw 0913,and my random fan. You're the best!

                                                                        Azurielle  


	28. Ending 1

I suppose that it was because I had hoped for a daughter, that the gods gifted me with a son instead.  Our son, Brandeth Nightstar was born on the 27th day of Marpenoth. And even considering he was born about a month too soon, I counted back and realized that I had gotten Rosealliele pregnant only a few months after we were married.

       I have never attended childbirth before, and after witnessing one, I vow that I never will again.  For though elven births are said to be the easiest of all races, they are still bloody, and my wife still screamed and was in so much pain that I was certain she was going to die. She did not die, however, though she cried piteously and made me feel like the worst sort of creature for having inflicted this upon her.

       Thankfully I don't recall much of when my son actually came out of my wife, for I when I heard her flesh tear, and saw his head coming out, I started to feel dizzy and was told by the clerics to get out of the way and to sit down before I fell down. 

       By the time I felt strong enough to stand again, I could hear my son wailing loudly as he was being cleaned.  My attention was completely on Rose, at that point, however, for she was the most important to me.  She was quick to assure me that she was fine, just tired and sore.  I think I was a little incredulous over her words considering the intensity of screams only moments earlier, but she assured me that she was all right.  As soon as they handed Brandeth to her, I was forced to concede that she did seem much better, for though she was sweaty and weary looking, the expression of amazement that crossed her face when she set eyes on him seemed to change everything.

       I confess, I was not overly impressed at the first view of my son.  When Sera had hatched, she had come out looking impressive, even though she had been so small. Brandeth was…tiny.  His head was about the size of the palm of my hand, and his hands and feet were smaller than my little finger in their entirety.  His skin was so pale as to be nearly white, and it seemed to sag around him….as though he was wearing a tunic that was too big.  His eyes were squinted closed, and his head was covered in blue hair that reminded me more of the fuzz on a peach skin, than of hair.  And his ears were far too big for him, and folded over at the tips.

       All in all, not very impressive…and so very delicate looking!  Rose offered to let me hold him, but I declined, thinking that I might hurt him if I did so.  That's the nice thing about Sera…she's fairly sturdy and had been since day one. Rose didn't complain or anything, as she seemed content to have him in her arms.  I say that it's a good thing, for she best get used to it.  I'd rather not pick him up too much anyhow…at least until he looks more capable of surviving it.

       Rose was the one who came up with the name Brandeth, I might add.  She told me that she was trying to come up with a way to honor my foster parents, knowing how much I loved them, and yet still keep the name sounding elven.  Brandeth is sort of a combination of elven and human names. I liked it when she told me that was what she wanted to name him, so I didn't disagree.  Brandeth Nightstar sounds fairly good, and at least it's easier to spell than Keledrial or Rosealliele!

       Now while Brandeth was as unlike Sera in appearance as one can get, I soon discovered how much very like her he was when it came to certain things, and in learning so, I have concluded that all infants must act the same, regardless of race.  The big difference is that at least Brandeth doesn't try to bite my fingers off when he's eating!

       The first few days were fine enough, for he slept for the most part.  Then, roughly a week or so after he was born, it was like he suddenly woke up.  He started crying…often and loudly.  When he wasn't eating or sleeping he was making a mess of his diapers.  It was like Sera all over again, in that reverie was fleeting for both Rose and I, as he always seem to decide to be demanding the moment we laid down.  And poor Rose seems to have less than no idea of what to do.  My wife is always asking me if I know what's wrong with him, or what she should do, her expression so trusting and fearful that all I want to do is give her a definitive answer so that she'll smile, or at the very least be relieved.

       The problem is that, Sera notwithstanding, I don't really know what to do.  Brandeth's cries are different than Sera's were…and he eats differently and so forth. Sometimes I can puzzle out what he's making noise for, while at others, I'm at a loss.  And while I know that babies are small and helpless, I also think that they are somewhat vengeful about being so, and that is the reason they choose the most inopportune times to declare themselves.

       Now that he's a month old, Brandeth seems a bit bigger, and his skin seems to fit him better.  The fuzz on his head is starting to grow out, and almost looks like real hair.  The only problem is that it sticks up on top of his head like little silver-blue spikes, which makes him looks like a bird with ruffled feathers.  His eyes which started as a muted bluish hue have changed to a distinctive violet color…like Rose's.  Poor boy.  I have never envied any of the elven men I know with violet eyes seeing as, in my opinion, it makes them look like girls.  Violet really is a girl's color anyway.  I hope Brandeth doesn't get teased too much when he gets older.

       Still, one good thing is that Brandeth has shown no signs of poor health.  According to the clerics, he is as fit as a fiddle…which is an odd statement seeing as how would one know if a fiddle is fit?  But the point is, he seems to have no trouble with his breathing…he certainly cries enough to show us that there is no problem with his lungs, after all.  And thinking back to the stories I had heard of when I was a child, I recall my parents having said that I rarely cried as a baby…and perhaps that was the first indication that something was wrong with me.  I should like to speak with them about, to ask what other things they noticed before realizing that I was sick.  I have written to them, and sent several magical messages, but there has been no response from them yet.  I'm rather concerned about it, seeing as you'd think they take enough time to write me back, or at least show some interest in their first, full-blood, legitimate elven grandchild!  And Rose's grandparents haven't responded either.  I know she's upset about it, seeing as she told me so.  She thinks they're angry at us, but I rather think that's ridiculous.  After all, she was engaged so young in part because there is a need for the Silverspear house to try to recover their numbers with new children.  And though Brandeth will be a Nightstar, he being the first born, there is every chance that someday down the road…hopefully far, far down the road…Rose and I will have other children, and some of those children will be Silverspears.  They should be happy, I told her, as Brandeth is proof that their house will be continue on, through her.  Rose is not convinced.  Sometimes she seems so sad and gloomy lately that I'm the one cheering her up, when usually it is the other way around.  I don't understand why she still seems to cry for no apparent reason. Maybe she's been around our son too much!  Still, the clerics told me that it's normal for her to behave this way, although they couldn't explain to me why it's normal.  Still, I hope she goes back to being the way she was.  I rather miss the woman I married.

       On the bright side, Sera is handling things well, which is better than I hoped for.  Initially I had feared that Sera would break down into another fit of hysterics, like when she had learned about Kelly.  Strangely, though, she never did…even though having Brandeth, a "real" elven child was one of the things Sera had been afraid of.  She was very intrigued during Rose's pregnancy, and was always touching Rose's belly so that she could feel the baby.  I was worried that she might resent Brandeth once he was born, however, good nature notwithstanding…especially seeing as Brandeth takes up a great deal of our free time.  But Sera has yet to complain.  In fact, the problem is…although I don't know if it should be termed "problem""…that Sera is…possessive of Brandeth. In fact, after the first time she was allowed to hold him, she declared that Brandeth was her brother and that she was happy to have him…with a great deal of emphasis on "her's." 

Now she will try to carry him with her whenever she allowed, and whenever she has him, getting him away from her is the hard part.  She is very protective of him, and talks to him like he is grown enough to understand her, but with her usual draconic nature she thinks that because he is "her's" that no one should be allowed to hold him but her.  She won't let her friends hold him, and will almost never give him up to anyone but Rose or I.  It's a little unnerving, to tell the truth.  But I don't suppose I can blame a dragon for being a dragon.  At least she doesn't hate him, as she did my brother Kedriel.  It's just that she treats Brandeth as though he were a living doll for her to play with.  And while that's fine now, I can already foresee trouble once he gets older and develops a will of his own.                

Still and all, despite the fact that I am growing a bit more comfortable with my son's presence, despite the fact that I really do wish he would learn to rest at proper time of night, I still can't help feeling somewhat apprehensive.  After all, I haven't done such a great job with Sera, spoiled thing that she is, but at least I know how to deal with her.  Brandeth, I believe is going to be a far different story, and I do not think it will be nearly as easy to deal with him as it is with Zelairwyn.  After all, he is related to me and the gods know I have never been an easy sort to for anyone to handle.

I cannot believe it!  How they managed to arrange all this and coordinate it all so well is well beyond my comprehension.  I had no idea what any of them were planning!  And I must say, when I walked down stairs this morning, the last thing in the world I expected was to see the majority of my friends and family waiting for me in one of the larger entertaining rooms of the Sunstar mansion!

Perhaps I should have caught on quicker…especially given Tobias' odd statement that he would be seeing me again soon.  I thought nothing of it at the time, but in retrospect, perhaps I should've.  I have a feeling that he, perhaps, was the driving force behind this, for he is about the only one who could have located, gathered and plotted a gathering of this magnitude.

And it wasn't until I saw them all, and they cheered at my surprise that I recalled what day it was: the twentieth day of Nightal, in the year 1396.  In short, today was my 110th birthday, the day that I officially become an adult.  I had completely forgotten about it, but then, after so many years, a birthday becomes just another day…and in my case, a particularly cold and wintry sort of day. 

So many of the people I knew had come.  My parents were there, as were Rose's Grandparents…no wonder we'd not been able to contact them!  Also there was my aunt and uncle, my siblings, my cousins, Lita and Allianna, Kelly, Ranon, a goodly number of both teachers and students from the school, and even Elaith…although how they convinced him to come, I have no idea.

I have admit that I was a bit overwhelmed to see how many people had come…how many people I knew...and more importantly how many friends and family I have that I truly care about.  I suppose it was a good thing that my parents approached me in short order and demanded to hold Brandeth, else I fear I might have dropped him, just out of sheer shock.

The day wore on in a whirlwind of music and laughter, and dancing, well into the evening.  I was pulled aside by one person after another, as they all wished me well on my birthday.

When she arrived, Rose appeared to look shocked at the gathering, as I had been, but a smile in her eyes gave away the fact that she had known what I would find when I went downstairs.  

Tobias beamed when I finally got around to speaking with him later that evening, asking if I had been surprised.  

"If I had been any more surprised," I assured him, " I fear my heart would have stopped beating from the shock.  He laughed and moved off in a swift manner as my sisters approached.

Elaith did not stay long, telling me that he had only stopped by long enough to say hello, and that he'd been attending to business in the area.  I am not entirely certain if I believed his reasons, but let him keep his secrets.  I was glad to see him, no matter the reason.

At one point during the evening, Kelly had managed to get a hold of Brandeth and was studying her half brother, when Sera bit Kelly, demanding Brandeth.  I was about to intervene when Kelly actually bit Sera in return.  When Sera came screaming to me about what had happened, I hard pressed to keep from laughing as I told her that she should be careful about biting, seeing as you never know who's going to bite back.  She seemed rather miffed that I was not going to scold Kelly, nor demand that the half-elf girl give Brandeth to Sera.  It will probably be good for her…a learning experience and all that.

Just after midnight, as the party was wearing down, I was cornered by my cousin, Sylthas.  After thanking me profusely for saving his hide, by having Brandeth, Sylthas proceeded to "faint" with relief…in actuality, though, I rather think it was more that he passed out after he, Bran, Ranon, Scully, and Rogan had tried to out drink Magnar.  Who would have thought that the dwarven blacksmith could drink more than his weight in ale and still look sober, while the other dropped like flies around him?  At least that is one contest I was not stupid enough to enter!

So now I have been officially declared the heir of house Nightstar, with Brandeth being next in line to inherit after me.  When my mother and aunt pass from this world, or if they should tire of the responsibilities of running the house, I must take their place.  And while it is something I have always known, it never truly seemed real until that point.  I had thought that such massive responsibility would leave me quaking, yet the fear and the sensation of being trapped never surfaced…only a sense of pride that even after all of the incredibly foolish things I have done, they still trusted me enough to name me their heir.

And beyond that, I know I have time left.  Plenty of time, if I can manage to curb some of my more idiotic tendencies.  Time to travel…time to teach…time for my family, and time for myself.

And I as I sit here, the sounds of the party are silent, as everyone has gone to their rest.  My wife is in reverie beside me, her body is warm and comforting next to mine.  Brandeth is sleeping in her arms, and Sera joined us a few hours ago, and sleeps next to Rose.  Watching them, I no longer feel anything but love for them…my family.  And I know that I am neither the greatest husband, nor father…but I also know that I do and always will try my hardest to make them happy, and see that they are safe.

I never imagined I would ever have anything like them…not even before Ruathym.  Thinking of all those who had come for my birthday, I never imagined that I would ever have so many people that I cared about…so many people who call me "friend."  I never even thought I would live to see my 110th birthday at all.  And knowing that I have all of them…well…lets just say that I think I can face what life has in store for me, so long as I have all of them, and know that I am no longer alone.

And now, while everything is still, and only the sounds of falling snow, and the scratch of quill against parchment to distract me, I think about a piece of advice Lita once gave me.  Lita has always given me good advice, though it always seems to take me a great deal of time to accept her words, and follow them…and it has taken me a bit of time to realize this, as well.

So now, I think it is time to follow Lita's words once more.                              I've been writing down my story for a long time now.  I never thought to ever get this far, but now that I have I'm thinking that I will take less time writing about my life, and spend more time living it.

Keledrial Nightstar

       Brandeth Nightstar set the heavy book down with a thud, wiping the grit from his eyes, catching his breath.  He looked out the window, and realized how dark it had gotten.  He had been reading all day!  

       He heard plenty about his father's youth, and adventuring days, but never the whole story.  Whenever he'd asked his father for details, Keledrial would always tell him that it was better to live in the present and not the past.

       Still, it had never occurred to Brandeth just how amazing a past his father had had.  Oh, to be certain Keledrial still went adventuring now and again, still fought drow in the forests.  But there had been so much in the story that Brandeth had never even heard whispered about!

       Brandeth thought about how different everything was now, from how it had been when the last entry in the journal had been written.  Almost a century had passed since that day, and in a few more years, it would be Brandeth celebrating his 110th birthday.

       His sister, Sera was grown up.  Brandeth could still remember the day that she brought home her boyfriend to meet everyone.  Brandeth had been much younger then, and thought it funny that their father had casually warned the very large silver dragon, Trissendeyon that if he hurt Sera that Keledrial would mount his head on the wall.  The silver dragon had seemed so shocked at the statement…and especially by the fact that Keledrial had seemed so serious about the threat.  Still, after a few hours and a few drinks, Keledrial and Trissendeyon were laughing and talking like old friends.  Brandeth had thought it especially amusing when Keledrial gestured to an old, battered black dragon head on the wall, and told Trissendeyon that Sera had once used it as chew toy.  Sera's face had turned absolutely crimson in embarrassment.

       Now Sera and Triss would soon be hatching their first clutch of eggs.  Most of the hatchlings they planned on bringing to Evermeet to be raised by foster parents.  Sera thought that restoring the number of dragons in Evermeet could only be a good thing, and that being raised by non-draconic surrogate parents hadn't done her any harm.

       Still, Brandeth was amused at how things had turned out with Sera…especially after having read that she had had a crush on Zelairwyn when she was younger.  He would have to tease them about it later, seeing as Zelairwyn had become Sera's rider after he'd come back from training in the Moonshaes, once he'd learned all that Keledrial had to teach him. 

       His uncle Kedriel had attended Everall, just as Brandeth did, and once finished, often went adventuring with Sera, Zelairwyn and the rest of their group.  Brandeth wanted to adventure someday, but at the same time, the idea of leaving Everall made him a bit nervous. 

       His aunts had both gotten married, and he rarely saw them, and his cousin, Sylthas was a captain in the aerial guard of Evermeet.

       Brandeth had met his half-sister Kelly when he was younger, but she had died several years ago while traveling with her husband Bran.  Brandeth went to school with two of their grandchildren.

       And Tobias had wed none other than Sylthas' sister, Orianna.  They had a little boy, and traveled al throughout Faerun.

       Brandeth got up, to put the book back on the library shelf where he'd found it, when he suddenly heard a voice behind him.

       "See.  I told you he was in here, Daddy," Brandeth heard his younger sister, Sylvianna say.  Sylvianna, born some 35 years after Brandeth, was a royal pain, Brandeth decided.  At least Sera was only overprotective of him…Sylvianna, on the other hand, followed him everywhere, and always managed to get him trouble…whether she meant to or not.  

       Brandeth froze, and turned around.  Standing in the doorway, was his father, and his sister.  As always Brandeth was struck by how much he looked like his father…their height was very nearly the same, and their faces all but identical...all except for the eyes.  Brandeth had the same violet eyes as his mother…although he preferred to describe them as "indigo" as that hue seemed less girly than violet.  Keledrial's green eyes chanced upon the book Brandeth held.  

       "Sylvianna, why don't you go see if your mother needs help with Elairwyn?" Keledrial suggested.  Elairwyn was Brandeth's only brother…and at only 3 years old, he was far too small to be interesting.  Still, Sylvianna darted off, leaving Brandeth alone with Keledrial.  

       His father took the book from him and set it down on the table.

       "I'm sorry, father.  I didn't mean to pry…"Brandeth began.

       "So what did you think?" Keledrial interrupted.  Brandeth answered before he thought.

       "It was amazing!  I can't believe all that stuff you did, and everything you went through!"  Brandeth exclaimed.  Keledrial chuckled.

       "Sometimes, neither can I." 

       "Why did you stop writing, though?  You've done lots of other things since then," Brandeth wanted to know.

       "Did you read the end of the journal?" his father asked.  Brandeth nodded. Keledrial smiled.

       "Let's just say that I learned living my life was a great deal more interesting that writing about it.  And someday I might pick up where I left off…but I have a feeling it will be a very long time from now."

                                                            The End             


	29. Ending 2

       I never thought it would end like this.  I never thought I would take the coward's way out, but how cane I live any longer when my heart is dead?

       Rose's seemed fine, right until the end.  She didn't let anyone know she was in pain.  She didn't tell anyone that the bleeding hadn't stopped.  And by the time they had finished cleaning up and tending to the baby, it was too late.

       I felt it, the moment she died.  It was worse than any wound I ever suffered…worse than the division of my self…worst than any agony I have the words in my to describe.  Imagine your insides and emotions, your heart and soul being ripped to shreds all in one instant, and that would be a start to what I felt.  Her mind just slipped away, as she ceased breathing, even as the baby started to wail.

       By the time the clerics realized what had happened, my Rose was gone…bled to death giving birth to a baby that was too large for her to bear.

       I couldn't scream…I couldn't cry…I didn't even make sound once I realized what had happened.  I just held her hand…still so warm…in my own, waiting for a miracle…that never came.

       Some in my position would have demanded to a cleric to bring her back.  I couldn't do that.  It has always been my belief that it is wrong to play with death, the way some priests do…and besides, even then I knew I would not be long without my heart.

       I barely remember all the things that followed.  I know that it was cold when I put her in the ground…buried her in the same grove I had married her in.  The ground was frozen…it took me a long time to dig deep enough.  I didn't let anyone come with me, nor did I let anyone near the grave.  No one knew that I dug the grave too big.

       I looked at my newborn son only once, a few days after.  He seemed too small…too small to have torn his way out of her…to have killed her.  He stared at me with wide, violet eyes…her eyes, damning me with their intensity.  I had done this too her.  I had killed her; that is what I read in those eyes.  I never looked at him again.  

       He will be fine.  I know that.  Liralyn found him a wet nurse, but he still cries.  Maybe he knows that she is not his mother.  Brandeth…it was the name my Rose chose for him and that is the name I gave him.  He will be fine.  There will be plenty of people to love him.  Both him and Sera.  

       I know that I'm being selfish.  If I were not, I would stay…raise my children…but I can't.  Rose was reason for living…and now, she is my reason for dying.  I only have a little time left…I know that.  The poison is already starting to blur my vision…but it is only a secondary measure.  Once I reach the grove, I will put my sword through the hole in my chest, where my heart used to be…just to be certain.  After all, as I lived in blood, so I should die…like her, in blood.  It seems a shame, though that after all the hard work the clerics did to save me, it shall all come to naught, after all.  

       We will be together in Arvandyr, that I do know.  She will be angry with me, but she'll understand why I had to do it.  I would not be a good father, now anyhow.  And what good is seeing the world, if the one I love is not here to see it with me?  No, it is better this way…and too late now for recriminations anyhow.  I have to get to the grove.  My parents will take care of Sera and Brandeth…they will love them, as I love them.  But they will stay with them, and care for them…as I cannot do.  Oh, Rose…I'll be with you soon.

       Brandeth read the final page of the journal in shock, his hands shaking. He knew that his mother, Rosealliele, had died while giving birth to him, but only knew that his father had died a month or so later, never the circumstances of his death.  And instead of having the grand party that his uncle Tobias had planned, there had been a funeral for his father instead.  And now Brandeth knew the truth.

       At first the young elf felt fury, anger the likes of which he'd never before felt.  How could his father, the elf who'd done so many brave things, have been such a coward to have taken his own life?!

       But then Brandeth suddenly hit upon what he believed was the truth…the real cause of his father's death…it had been him.  Brandeth had killed his parents.  Certainly he'd always known that he'd killed his mother, he been too big for her to bear…but now he had to accept the responsibility for his father's death as well….for by killing Rose, Brandeth had also been the catalyst for Keledrial's death.

       He started to cry.  He didn't know what else to do.  Now he understood why his sister Sera was so distant towards him, why she had gone away as soon as she could…why his grandparents never spoke about Rose or Keledrial to him.  Now he understood the truth, and he wondered how he would ever be able to bear knowing it.             


	30. Ending 3

I suppose that it was because I had hoped for a daughter, that the gods gifted me with a son instead.  Our son, Brandeth Nightstar was born on the 27th day of Marpenoth. And even considering he was born about a month too soon, I counted back and realized that I had gotten Rosealliele pregnant only a few months after we were married.

       I have never attended childbirth before, and after witnessing one, I vow that I never will again.  For though elven births are said to be the easiest of all races, they are still bloody, and my wife still screamed and was in so much pain that I was certain she was going to die. She did not die, however, though she cried piteously and made me feel like the worst sort of creature for having inflicted this upon her.

       Thankfully I don't recall much of when my son actually came out of my wife, for I when I heard her flesh tear, and saw his head coming out, I started to feel dizzy and was told by the clerics to get out of the way and to sit down before I fell down. 

       By the time I felt strong enough to stand again, I could hear my son wailing loudly as he was being cleaned.  My attention was completely on Rose, at that point, however, for she was the most important to me.  She was quick to assure me that she was fine, just tired and sore.  I think I was a little incredulous over her words considering the intensity of screams only moments earlier, but she assured me that she was all right.  As soon as they handed Brandeth to her, I was forced to concede that she did seem much better, for though she was sweaty and weary looking, the expression of amazement that crossed her face when she set eyes on him seemed to change everything.

       I confess, I was not overly impressed at the first view of my son.  When Sera had hatched, she had come out looking impressive, even though she had been so small. Brandeth was…tiny.  His head was about the size of the palm of my hand, and his hands and feet were smaller than my little finger in their entirety.  His skin was so pale as to be nearly white, and it seemed to sag around him….as though he was wearing a tunic that was too big.  His eyes were squinted closed, and his head was covered in blue hair that reminded me more of the fuzz on a peach skin, than of hair.  And his ears were far too big for him, and folded over at the tips.

       All in all, not very impressive…and so very delicate looking!  Rose offered to let me hold him, but I declined, thinking that I might hurt him if I did so.  That's the nice thing about Sera…she's fairly sturdy and had been since day one. Rose didn't complain or anything, as she seemed content to have him in her arms.  I say that it's a good thing, for she best get used to it.  I'd rather not pick him up too much anyhow…at least until he looks more capable of surviving it.

       Rose was the one who came up with the name Brandeth, I might add.  She told me that she was trying to come up with a way to honor my foster parents, knowing how much I loved them, and yet still keep the name sounding elven.  Brandeth is sort of a combination of elven and human names. I liked it when she told me that was what she wanted to name him, so I didn't disagree.  Brandeth Nightstar sounds fairly good, and at least it's easier to spell than Keledrial or Rosealliele!

       Now while Brandeth was as unlike Sera in appearance as one can get, I soon discovered how much very like her he was when it came to certain things, and in learning so, I have concluded that all infants must act the same, regardless of race.  The big difference is that at least Brandeth doesn't try to bite my fingers off when he's eating!

       The first few days were fine enough, for he slept for the most part.  Then, roughly a week or so after he was born, it was like he suddenly woke up.  He started crying…often and loudly.  When he wasn't eating or sleeping he was making a mess of his diapers.  It was like Sera all over again, in that reverie was fleeting for both Rose and I, as he always seem to decide to be demanding the moment we laid down.  And poor Rose seems to have less than no idea of what to do.  My wife is always asking me if I know what's wrong with him, or what she should do, her expression so trusting and fearful that all I want to do is give her a definitive answer so that she'll smile, or at the very least be relieved.

       The problem is that, Sera notwithstanding, I don't really know what to do.  Brandeth's cries are different than Sera's were…and he eats differently and so forth. Sometimes I can puzzle out what he's making noise for, while at others, I'm at a loss.  And while I know that babies are small and helpless, I also think that they are somewhat vengeful about being so, and that is the reason they choose the most inopportune times to declare themselves.

       Now that he's a month old, Brandeth seems a bit bigger, and his skin seems to fit him better.  The fuzz on his head is starting to grow out, and almost looks like real hair.  The only problem is that it sticks up on top of his head like little silver-blue spikes, which makes him looks like a bird with ruffled feathers.  His eyes which started as a muted bluish hue have changed to a distinctive violet color…like Rose's.  Poor boy.  I have never envied any of the elven men I know with violet eyes seeing as, in my opinion, it makes them look like girls.  Violet really is a girl's color anyway.  I hope Brandeth doesn't get teased too much when he gets older.

       Still, one good thing is that Brandeth has shown no signs of poor health.  According to the clerics, he is as fit as a fiddle…which is an odd statement seeing as how would one know if a fiddle is fit?  But the point is, he seems to have no trouble with his breathing…he certainly cries enough to show us that there is no problem with his lungs, after all.  And thinking back to the stories I had heard of when I was a child, I recall my parents having said that I rarely cried as a baby…and perhaps that was the first indication that something was wrong with me.  I should like to speak with them about, to ask what other things they noticed before realizing that I was sick.  I have written to them, and sent several magical messages, but there has been no response from them yet.  I'm rather concerned about it, seeing as you'd think they take enough time to write me back, or at least show some interest in their first, full-blood, legitimate elven grandchild!  And Rose's grandparents haven't responded either.  I know she's upset about it, seeing as she told me so.  She thinks they're angry at us, but I rather think that's ridiculous.  After all, she was engaged so young in part because there is a need for the Silverspear house to try to recover their numbers with new children.  And though Brandeth will be a Nightstar, he being the first born, there is every chance that someday down the road…hopefully far, far down the road…Rose and I will have other children, and some of those children will be Silverspears.  They should be happy, I told her, as Brandeth is proof that their house will be continue on, through her.  Rose is not convinced.  Sometimes she seems so sad and gloomy lately that I'm the one cheering her up, when usually it is the other way around.  I don't understand why she still seems to cry for no apparent reason. Maybe she's been around our son too much!  Still, the clerics told me that it's normal for her to behave this way, although they couldn't explain to me why it's normal.  Still, I hope she goes back to being the way she was.  I rather miss the woman I married.

       On the bright side, Sera is handling things well, which is better than I hoped for.  Initially I had feared that Sera would break down into another fit of hysterics, like when she had learned about Kelly.  Strangely, though, she never did…even though having Brandeth, a "real" elven child was one of the things Sera had been afraid of.  She was very intrigued during Rose's pregnancy, and was always touching Rose's belly so that she could feel the baby.  I was worried that she might resent Brandeth once he was born, however, good nature notwithstanding…especially seeing as Brandeth takes up a great deal of our free time.  But Sera has yet to complain.  In fact, the problem is…although I don't know if it should be termed "problem""…that Sera is…possessive of Brandeth. In fact, after the first time she was allowed to hold him, she declared that Brandeth was her brother and that she was happy to have him…with a great deal of emphasis on "her's." 

       Now she will try to carry him with her whenever she allowed, and whenever she has him, getting him away from her is the hard part.  She is very protective of him, and talks to him like he is grown enough to understand her, but with her usual draconic nature she thinks that because he is "her's" that no one should be allowed to hold him but her.  She won't let her friends hold him, and will almost never give him up to anyone but Rose or I.  It's a little unnerving, to tell the truth.  But I don't suppose I can blame a dragon for being a dragon.  At least she doesn't hate him, as she did my brother Kedriel.  It's just that she treats Brandeth as though he were a living doll for her to play with.  And while that's fine now, I can already foresee trouble once he gets older and develops a will of his own.                

Still and all, despite the fact that I am growing a bit more comfortable with my son's presence, despite the fact that I really do wish he would learn to rest at proper time of night, I still can't help feeling somewhat apprehensive.  After all, I haven't done such a great job with Sera, spoiled thing that she is, but at least I know how to deal with her.  Brandeth, I believe is going to be a far different story, and I do not think it will be nearly as easy to deal with him as it is with Zelairwyn.  After all, he is related to me and the gods know I have never been an easy sort to for anyone to handle.

I can hardly believe how easy it was!  I always forget how satisfying it is to kill someone especially when they don't see it coming.  I know that I promised myself I was going to stop…especially after how close I was to getting caught the last time.  But I couldn't help it…not after meeting the fair Rosealliele. From the moment I saw her, I knew I had to have her, that she should belong to me.  Unfortunately, that meant that my friendship with Keledrial was over.

It always happens this way, though.  I need to stop deluding myself, anyhow.  I like to kill.  I like to kill people who think they are my friends. And once again, I Tobias…or Raede…or any of the multitude or names I have given myself over the centuries, has done it again…set up and executed the perfect murder.

It was so easy, really…almost too easy.  But then, again I am just that good.  It's like an art…what I do.  Few people can master it, but I have.  And I love to do it.  I can barely even remember the first time I killed, it was so long ago, and yet each kill hold a special place in my heart.  How I wish I could somehow recapture each of the final expressions on the faces of my victims…that look of perfect surprise as they realize that I, their dearest friend is the one who is killing them!  Alas, I have yet to come up with a way to do that.  

I find it amusing, though, that no one ever bothered looking into where Hank went, for one.  It's certainly a good thing that Lita gave me the task of looking for him when we gathering people for the last adventure.  The nosy little digger was getting far too curious about my past for my liking…especially after hearing about the murder of Raede Elarnon while he was traveling.  Damned druid.  Well, he'll feed his beloved plants for a long time to come, now won't he?  And those journal entries Keledrial had me write! Everyone has always been so willing to believe the picture I paint for them…if any of them ever suspected what I am really like…well, let's just say that any one who ever did followed Hank into the afterlife!  

Still, I think I shall particularly treasure Keledrial's final look…that look of dawning realization, coupled with stark betrayal and utter surprise as I ran him through, killing him instantly when I pierced his heart.  The plan was just so perfect, you see.  And there is no way any one will ever suspect me

First I set up everything for Keledrial's110th birthday party…it would be a wonderful surprise I told them all..  Everyone agreed.  Then, after the party was well under way, I made certain a goblet of drugged wine made its way into the hands of Kellenes Dakarios.  When the poor fool had finally passed out, I "borrowed" his sword and asked Keledrial to accompany me for a talk.  There was something important I had to tell him, I said.  I left a particularly convincing illusion of myself, passed out.  Everyone knows Tobias can't handle his liquor, after all.  Nothing but a poor, cowardly bard…how I love cultivating that image.  If only they knew the true me!

And then the blade slid in, gods how I love that feeling, the warm gush of blood as it spills back over my hand.  And with his dying breath, he asked me,

"Why?"  They always ask why.  I never answer.  They wouldn't understand anyhow.  None of them understand.  Once he was dead, I took out the stone, a lovely little item that I procured centuries ago.  Called the stone of eternal rest, it is a tiny pebble, enchanted so that, once placed in the mouth of a corpse, the spirit will never be able to be raised or questioned.  I learned a long time ago, how questions when put to a murdered spirit can get me in trouble…and thus use the stone to remedy such problems.  I'll come back in a few decades and dig it up, as I always do, but for now…let's just say that dear Keledrial won't be telling any tales.  I had to kill Sanhandrian as well…it was rather too easy to chop the squirrel in half.  Too much trouble would come about if someone thought to question Keledrial's familiar, after all…at least they can be together in death, the one possession I will allow my ex-friend to keep.

So now, everything will go as planned.  I put the bloodied sword back into Kellenes's sheath, after smearing a bit of Keledrial's blood on his hands.  Come tomorrow, there won't be a single person who doesn't think that Kellenes murdered Keledrial.  Everyone at the school knows of their rivalry, after all. .And I, Tobias, will be the ever helpful friend, and aid the grieving family in anyway I can.  All that he has is soon to be mine…even now I write in his journal, for it is now mine as soon Keledrial's family will be as well.

All I have to do is be a bit more patient, and Rosealliele will be all mine.  I'll comfort the poor widow as best I can.  And of course, if she isn't inclined to be reasonable, there's always little Brandeth.  I've learned that most mothers will do just about anything to keep their child from harm...and oh the harm that could befall an infant as young as Brandeth!  Who knows, perhaps once I've had my fill of Rosealliele, I might see what it is like to mate with a silver dragon…little Sera is looking so grown up latel______

          Brandeth Nightstar looked down at the journal, feeling numb horror.  He could not believe what he had just read.  Everything he'd always believed had suddenly changed in an instant.  Brandeth had always known that his father had been killed when he was a baby, and he had always believed that it Kellenes Dakarios had been the one who killed him.  He had once asked his sister, sera about what had happened and she told him, sparing no detail about how Kellenes had been discovered with his sword covered in blood, claiming he could not recall what had happened the night before.  She told him how their father had been found, murdered, not far from where Kellenes had woken up, with a sword wound through the heart, matching the shape and size of Kellenes's sword.  Kellenes had been imprisoned in the town of Essembra, and was awaiting trial for the murder, when he disappeared.  Brandeth knew that once they were old enough, Sera and her rider, his father's former apprentice, Zelairwyn, had spent many years searching for Kellenes Dakarios to avenge Keledrial.   Though Brandeth had never met Kellenes Dakarios, he had been raised by Sera to despise the elf for taking his father away.  He had never harbored any ill will towards Kellenes' brother and nephew.  Brandeth had always liked Kalanas and Rhylaun, and had felt bad that they seemed to feel so guilty over what Kellenes had done. 

            Sera had also told him about how Keledrial's best friend, Tobias had died that very same night.  For a while, it was thought that Kellenes had also had something to do Tobias' death, but the clerics ruled that Tobias had died of natural causes…his heart had suddenly stopped.  

            And now Brandeth knew that all of what he had been told wasn't true…and he wondered how it was that no one had known this.  Hadn't they read the journal when they found Tobias' body? He wondered.  Then, thinking about it, he concluded it was possible that with all the commotion of two possible murders in one night…the night of Keledrial Nightstar's 110th birthday, that the journal might have gotten overlooked.

            And now Brandeth had the journal, which he found stored in a box of his father's things…and with it, the proof that Kellenes Dakarios was innocent and that Tobias had been no friend to the Nightstar family.  And he wondered…why had the journal entry cut off so suddenly, only a trail of ink left by Tobias' hand, instead of a finished entry.  And why had Tobias died so suddenly?  After having read the entirety of the journal, and learning what sort of person his father had been, Brandeth had his suspicions.

            And then there were all the strange things about his life that he'd grown used to over the years.  The hand that would grab him before he could fall…but when he would look back, there was no one there.  The presence he sometimes felt, even if there was no body in the room.  And then there was his mother…most people thought that she was a bit mad, after her husband had been murdered so young, leaving her with two young children.  His sister told him that his mother had tried to have his father's spirit brought back, but that the spell had failed time and again, and no one knew why.  But then, one day, a year or so after Keledrial had died, Rosealliele had stopped trying to raise him.  And since that day, she often spoke to the air, addressing her dead husband as though he were still with her.  Brandeth had grown up with the understanding that though his mother loved him and was a powerful wizard, she was also insane…that she had loved his father so much that she could not bear the thought of living life with out him, and so pretended that he was still there.

            But now, with all those strange little things, coupled with the fact that his father's murdered had died "mysteriously" and suddenly, while gloating over murdering Keledrial, and plotting how best to exploit Rosealliele, Brandeth, and Sera, Brandeth was beginning to wonder if his mother really was insane, or if there were more too it than that.

            Suddenly, a breeze stirred through the room, even though there were no windows opened.  The last page in the journal turned, and Brandeth's eyes were drawn down to the book once more.  Written on the back of the page, scrawled in a vaguely familiar, but faded hand, were the words,

            "No one hurts the ones I love while I am still here…and I will always be here."

         And Brandeth Nightstar realized then, that his father had never really left at all.  He had, in fact, been with him, and the rest of his family all along.  And somehow, after having read the journal and learning what sort of person Keledrial had been, the realization did not surprise Brandeth one bit.


End file.
